


Flowers Grown From Bones

by Scribe34



Series: Conquer the Night [15]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions, Pocket Monsters: Ultra Sun & Ultra Moon | Pokemon Ultra Sun & Ultra Moon Versions
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Media: "Chatwitter" Posts, Alternate Media: Court Transcript, Alternate Media: Online Articles, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Discussion of Racism, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Game Credits Afterparty, Hellyfish, Humor, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Panic Attacks, Partial Chatfic, Problematic Relationship Dynamics, Social Media Puns, relationship therapy, television interview
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 09:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 41,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27848542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribe34/pseuds/Scribe34
Summary: mudgaymingk so im a skeleton...mudgaymingb/c team skull yanno lmaomudgaymingand it feels like im being grinded down to nothing rnmudgaymingbut the thing is that i know someday me being grinded down to nothing means that something beautiful will grow in its placemudgayminghopefully ill be a peony and not a lilac b/c the lilacs in DigStuff are ugly asfmudgaymingbut rn im just bonemeal and the grind is fuckin realmudgaymingdoes that make any senseSoph-O-MaticIt makes perfect sense, and I love that you're using a DigStuff metaphor to explain how you feel.Soph-O-MaticIt's very you.mudgaymingur blushing arent uSoph-O-MaticI will neither confirm nor deny this accusation.mudgaymingu cute lil shitmudgaymingthis is why i like u
Relationships: Gladio | Gladion/Moon, Guzma/Plumeri | Plumeria (Pokemon), Hau/Lilie | Lillie (Pokemon), Maamane | Sophocles/Original Male Character, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: Conquer the Night [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1002138
Comments: 96
Kudos: 83





	1. ACT I: BONES— INTERLUDE I: Pandanus candelabrum

**Author's Note:**

> hey, hi, hello. welcome to hell.
> 
> I'm kidding, I have no regrets about this whatsoever; it's just a big fuckin project.
> 
> FGFB is the fifteenth entry in the CTN series. If you're new here and you don't have any idea what's going on— then you really, REALLY need to go back and read the previous fourteen entries because without them, you're not going to understand what's going on.
> 
> Caught up? Great. Moving on.
> 
> **  
> _CTN UNIVERSE RULES_  
> **
> 
> 1\. **_All characters are aged up._** At the _approximate_ beginning of this story (the timeline is all over the place for the first 4 chapters don't worry about it) Gladion is (barely) 20, Moon and Hau are 18, and Lillie is 17. Pokémon Trainers in all regions begin a gym or island challenge the summer after graduating from high school.
> 
> 2\. **_Moon and Hau are second cousins._** This has been explained in previous entries. Hala and Moon's (deceased) maternal grandmother are brother and sister.
> 
> 3\. **_Moon has an established sibling/friend relationship with Red and Blue._** She is from Pallet Town and grew up as their little sister/friend. They are six years older than her.
> 
> 4\. **_Lusamine has narcissistic personality disorder and was abusive to Gladion and Lillie._** I elaborate more on this in the stories themselves but this is based on canon game dialogue from SuMo. I was VERY pissed off at how they changed it for USUM, and thus CTN was born.
> 
> 5\. **_Team Skull have a dark backstory and a lot of dynamic and diverse OCs._** I'm aware that OCs can be a controversial choice in fanfiction, but these OCs have been established for a long time and are important to the plot. If you don't like OCs, you will probably not like this fic; but I have had a few people tell me that they don't usually like OCs but they like mine. So... maybe give it a shot anyway? If you don't like it, you don't have to keep reading. I promise I won't be mad. ;)
> 
> 6\. The above point leads me to a new and important point, which I mentioned in the endnotes of HftCBF: **_There will be chapters from the viewpoint of several OCs._** It's a lot of viewpoints to juggle. I will not directly invoke The Very Famous Grimdark Low Fantasy Book Series (And HBO Television Adaptation) With More POV Changes Than I Can Keep Track Of, but it's starting to feel a little like that, except you can be sure that I'm not going to kill off characters for no reason like that author. * _side-eyes most of the Stark family_ *
> 
> 7\. **_The status of the fic at any given time can be found on the series page._** I write with at least a twelve-chapter buffer ahead of where I am posting. At this point, the status will say [IN PROGRESS, POSTING] next to FGFB, and will probably stay that way for a very long time. (I have subdivided this status into Act I: Bones, Act II: Decay, Act III: Mulch, and Act IV: Flora.) For a more exact understanding of where I'm at in the story, you can visit...
> 
> 8\. ...the Discord server. **_Somehow, this story has gotten popular enough to have its own Discord server??!?_** HeadlessChicken is the admin/founder, for which I am absofuckinglutely overwhelmingly grateful. **_RESPECT THE CHICKEN._** I think I am also an admin but I'm still not really sure how Discord works, so. The Discord is a lot of fun! We hang out, I post random shit like screenshots of my CTN files or D&D alignment memes, there's a spoilers channel where people freak out live about the most recent update ~~and I troll everyone~~... it's a lot of fun. You can head over here: https://discord.gg/7aX5Gk2uQq
> 
> Thank you all for your continued support of Conquer The Night. I never dreamed my story would carve out a little corner of the internet like this. You guys have been a light in some of my darkest moments, and I am forever grateful for that.
> 
> Please enjoy Flowers Grown From Bones.
> 
> Sarah (Scribe34)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which one who has suffered finds just a bit of peace in a chaotic world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Pandanus candelabrum_ , or the chandelier tree, only grows above kimberlite croppings, in which diamonds are found.
> 
> CW: discussion of age dynamics in a relationship, mild sexual humor

* * * * * early December * * * * *

Almas squinted at the screen, checked his setup, petted Judy who whickered in appreciation, and nodded to himself, before clicking on _Start Stream_. It took a few moments to show, but gradually people began to trickle in, notified by Chatwitter or Gliscord or PokéTube: **@mudgayming was live on Tortwitch**.

"Hi," he greeted them, and a chorus of return greetings popped into the chat. "Yo, what up. Um— _narcolepticslakoth_ , I'm doing great, thanks for asking. _talonflump_ , thanks, this is one of my favorite shirts. _pikavroom_ , Judy is great too, thank you. Oh, _sneasystreet_ — the audio's broken for you? Let me check with the sound mod real quick—"

"Audio's fine, it's borked on their end," said Jeremiah's voice through his headset.

"Sound mod says it's on your end, sorry about that. Try muting and unmuting your speakers? I don't know much about audio tech, sorry. Can the rest of you hear me okay? Yes? Okay, great."

He fidgeted a bit in his chair, watching the chat roll in.

"What am I playing today? Well, I'm kind of stressed out today because we had to move this week— yeah, you guys saw the new setup already, but I was going to explain more once there were more people."

A donation of twenty-six hundred Poké popped up in the chat: _Soph-O-Matic_ , a consistent subscriber and generous donator for the last three months— around September, he thought. _You didn't mention you were moving_.

"Oh, hey, _Soph-O-Matic_. Thanks for the twenty-six hundred P, super appreciated. Yeah, it was unexpected." Almas swallowed, looking away from the camera. "It's, um— it's complicated."

Another familiar name blinked onto the screen: _[MOD]jeongcottonee_ , but that was Moonie. _It was really fucked up, guys, but we can't tell you a lot about it because there's some legal stuff_.

"Yeah, what _jeongcottonee_ said," agreed Almas, relieved. "But yeah, it looks like we've got— oh shit, nearly a thousand people, so... let's start. Hey, everybody. I'm _mudgayming_ , today is Thursday, and that means..."

He trailed off expectantly, and the Tortwitch chat filled with images. Most of them were photographs with text laid over in meme format, but a few people had drawn fanart (and wasn't _that_ something else, that he was Internet-popular enough to have fanart) and Moonie, because he was evil, sent a rather more suggestive photograph.

"...that's right. Thursday is Thor's Day." Almas grinned at the silly and cute pictures of the attractive actor who played Thor in the movies. "Thanks for your currency of memes, you have paid me well. Okay, but hot people aside: I've had a shitty, stressful week so today's stream is gonna be kind of chill. I'm basically just gonna go strip mining in DigStuff."

A few people expressed annoyance at this, but the response was by and large positive and Almas smiled at the screen. His eye was caught, once again, by a donation (always twenty-six hundred Poké, usually at least twice a stream) from _Soph-O-Matic:_ _Sounds great. Do whatever you need to do, we're here to support you_.

"Hey, _Soph-O-Matic_ , thanks for yet another twenty-six hundred. And thank you, and everyone else, for all your support." Almas opened the game on his second screen, checking to make sure that everyone could see it in the stream, and logged in to find his character in the house where he'd left him. "Cool, cool. Business as usual. Let me just hop down into my mine here, and we'll get started..."

* * * * * late December * * * * *

In retrospect, it had probably been a bad idea, but Almas was used to having bad ideas. He regretted it the second he pressed the button, but it was too late to take it back _because Soph was already fucking typing a reply._

**mudgayming** did u mean what u said?

"Oh god, oh fuck. Oh god."

"What now," said Moonie, walking back into the room.

"I DM'ed him on Gliscord, _help_ —"

"DM'ed who?"

"Soph-O-Matic. I don't know _what_ the fuck I was thinking—"

"About time," said Jeremiah. "You're a disaster gay and every time Soph says something nice on the stream you freak out for like, three days."

"I'm just a disaster, period— _oh_ my god he's typing oh god send help."

**Soph-O-Matic** **is typing...**

 **Soph-O-Matic** I say a lot of things to you.

 **Soph-O-Matic** You're going to have to clarify.

"He's flirting with you, that's adorable," said Moonie, clapping him on the shoulder. "You want us to go, or do you need moral support?"

"Moral support, please," mumbled Almas, and they both crawled onto the bed on either side of him to cuddle. Moonie kissed the side of his head and they all watched him type.

**mudgayming** that thing u said in the last donation

 **mudgayming** u said i was pretty

 **Soph-O-Matic** Because it's true.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAA—"

"Shh, Cassie's gonna yell at us again," giggled Jer, clapping one hand over Almas's mouth. "Soph is really smooth, though."

"Nobody can be that perfect in real life," said Almas forlornly. "There's got to be something wrong with him. Maybe he's a misogynist, or transphobic."

"Hey, don't start imagining how it's going to go wrong. That's a sure way to actually make it go wrong."

"Ask him about himself," suggested Jer. "You've known each other for a while, right?"

"He started following me like a month after I started streaming, and he donates like, five hundred thousand a month. Which is a lot for someone our age, so I think maybe he's older?"

"He types like an old man."

"He types with appropriate capitalization and punctuation, which is what I do," said Moonie, frowning at Jer. "Are you suggesting that I'm an old man?"

"Of course not! You're young and beautiful and squishy and I _love_ you—"

"Gross," said Almas pointedly, interrupting before Moonie's face could get any redder. "What do I say?"

"Ask him if he likes boys," suggested Jer.

"Ask him what his favorite game is," countered Moonie.

"Oh, yeah, do that, that's a much better idea."

Almas took a breath, then began typing.

**mudgayming** omg that's so nice of you, thx

 **mudgayming** so whats ur fav game

 **Soph-O-Matic** I like pretty much everything you've played, but my favorites are DigStuff, HZD, and Subnautica.

 **mudgayming** omg subnautica nope

 **mudgayming** i still have nightmares about the fuckin reapers

 **mudgayming** i will never look at a milotic the same way again

 **mudgayming** nope Nope NOPE _NOPE_ _**NOPE**_

 **Soph-O-Matic** You were really cute on that stream.

 **mudgayming** omg

 **mudgayming** listen so like i love getting complimented and shit

 **mudgayming** but im only 16 and im not sure how old u r

 **mudgayming** literally u could b my age or u could b like 50, cant tell from the way u text

 **mudgayming** so if this is like, u makin ur move then i need to know ur age 4 like legal reasons

 **Soph-O-Matic** That's fair.

 **Soph-O-Matic** I'm also sixteen, though I understand if you don't believe me. I text like this because it's how I'm used to texting. A lot of my job is online and I'm just used to behaving in a more professional demeanor.

 **mudgayming** how r u also 16 but u have a job

 **mudgayming** like u donate 500K p a month

 **mudgayming** no offense but most teenagers dont have that kind of money

 **Soph-O-Matic** Would proof of identity ease your mind?

 **Soph-O-Matic** I prefer to communicate over text because I'm very shy and awkward in real life, but I could send proof.

 **mudgayming** ... go on

"Okay," announced Jeremiah, standing up. "We're leaving now. He probably doesn't want to dox himself to me and Moonie."

"Um, okay," said Almas absently, staring at the screen. His mouth had gone dry, which was— ugh, weird. Also his ears were warm, and he could hear the dull thud of his heartbeat as far as his earlobes. "That's— that's fine. Thanks."

**Soph-O-Matic** Video Attachment: [VID004.mov]

"H-hey, mudgayming. Um, it's me, Soph-O-Matic. Or just, um, Sophocles, as that's, um, my name. Um, if you follow the island challenge at all then you probably recognize me. I'm, um, a trial captain. So I do have a job. In that sense. B-but I'm also a freelance computer programmer? And I'm taking some college classes, and stuff, because I graduated from high school early. I, um, I don't get a lot of time to relax in all that, so your streams are, um. They're really nice. I can just sit and do homework and listen to you talk and stuff. You have a nice voice, very relaxing. And, u-um— yeah, I-I-I do think you're really cute. Hope I didn't, um. Creep you out. Or anything. Because I, um— I know I'm really a-awkward and, um. Not much to look at, or w-whatever. Anyway, bye."

**mudgayming** omg

 **Soph-O-Matic** ...that was cringey, wasn't it.

 **mudgayming** OMG NO

 **mudgayming** ur rlly cute!!!

 **Soph-O-Matic** What.

 **mudgayming** like u were blushing and u couldn't look at the camera!!! on the one hand relatable asf but v v v cute!!!

 **Soph-O-Matic** I'm overweight and pimply.

 **mudgayming** correction: ur made 4 cuddles, and ur skin is experiencing technical difficulties

 **mudgayming** im skinny so im all bony to cuddle but my friend molly is a lil bigger and she's so nice to cuddle with

 **Soph-O-Matic** Do you cuddle with her a lot?

 **mudgayming** only in the most platonic sense

 **mudgayming** like cuddling with my mum

 **mudgayming** except my real mum isn't very cuddly

 **mudgayming** not the point

 **mudgayming** u look like u would be nice to cuddle with!!! :D

 **Soph-O-Matic** For once, my cousin was right about something.

 **mudgayming** ?

 **Soph-O-Matic** "You should talk to your internet crush, Soffy!"

 **mudgayming** am i ur internet crush??!?!

 **Soph-O-Matic** Yes.

 **mudgayming** well listen, ur my internet crush too!!!

 **mudgayming** literally ur always the nicest and u say such nice things in chat and u donate so much money which is rlly rlly kind omg

 **Soph-O-Matic** And today, I die of asphyxiation.

 **mudgayming** omg don't die, internet crush

 **mudgayming** ur too pretty to die

 **Soph-O-Matic** You're not helping.

 **mudgayming** lmao im low-key evil

 **mudgayming** but if ur gettin uncomfortable we can talk about other stuff

 **mudgayming** just because i got excited to flirt w/u doesn't mean i have 2 b in flirt mode all the time

 **Soph-O-Matic** We can talk about anything you want.

 **Soph-O-Matic** Flirting included.

 **Soph-O-Matic** Frankly, I could listen to you read a phonebook and I'd be entertained.

 **mudgayming** whats a phonebook

 **Soph-O-Matic** I have come to the sudden realization that I only know what a phonebook is because my best friend is my cousin and he's thirty-four.

 **Soph-O-Matic** I don't get out much, in case you couldn't tell.

 **mudgayming** lmao i play video games on the internet 4 a living

 **mudgayming** i don't get out much either

* * * * * mid-January * * * * *

**Soph-O-Matic** Hey, what's up

 **mudgayming** hey soph

 **mudgayming** not much tbh

 **Soph-O-Matic** Has it been a good day? You were very quiet during the stream.

 **mudgayming** im just tired

 **mudgayming** lil bit sad but it's not anything with you

 **Soph-O-Matic** Do you want to talk about it?

 **mudgayming** did u know im team skull

 **mudgayming** do u hate me now ive told u

 **Soph-O-Matic** You underestimate the power of cyberstalkery.

 **Soph-O-Matic** When you told me your real name originally, I promptly went and looked you up on other social media sites.

 **Soph-O-Matic** There's pictures of you in the Team Skull uniform on your personal Spindagram account. I figured if you wanted to talk about it, you would talk about it.

 **mudgayming** oh

 **mudgayming** that's

 **mudgayming** not what i expected u to say

 **Soph-O-Matic** We can't all be melodramatic, star-crossed lovers like Moon and Gladion.

 **mudgayming** EYE—

 **Soph-O-Matic** Am I wrong?

 **mudgayming** NO B UT LIK E

 **mudgayming** TH AT WAS SHADY AS FCUK IM DYIN G OMG

 **mudgayming** IM LAFFIN SO HARD H LE P

 **Soph-O-Matic** Glad I could cheer you up a little. :)

 **mudgayming** omg thx u have no idea how much i needed that

 **Soph-O-Matic** Of course, any time.

 **Soph-O-Matic** Did you still want to talk about it?

 **mudgayming** yea hang on

 **mudgayming** let me explain it like this

 **Soph-O-Matic** ?

 **mudgayming** u know how in DigStuff u can kill skeletons?

 **Soph-O-Matic** Or zombies or spiders or creepers or any other mob, yes.

 **mudgayming** the skeletons r the point here

 **mudgayming** and then u turn their bones into bone meal?

 **Soph-O-Matic** Right...

 **mudgayming** and then u use the bone meal to make ur flowers grow faster

 **mudgayming** i mean ppl usually just use it for crops but i use it for flowers b/c dye and colors and rainbows and all that good gay shit

 **Soph-O-Matic** Indeed.

 **mudgayming** k so im a skeleton...

 **mudgayming** b/c team skull yanno lmao

 **mudgayming** and it feels like im being grinded down to nothing rn

 **mudgayming** but the thing is

 **mudgayming** is that i know someday me being grinded down to nothing means that something beautiful will grow in its place

 **mudgayming** hopefully ill be a peony and not a lilac b/c the lilacs in DigStuff are ugly asf

 **mudgayming** but rn im just bonemeal and the grind is fuckin real

 **mudgayming** does that make any sense

 **Soph-O-Matic** It makes perfect sense, and I love that you're using a DigStuff metaphor to explain how you feel.

 **Soph-O-Matic** It's very you.

 **mudgayming** ur blushing arent u

 **Soph-O-Matic** I will neither confirm nor deny this accusation.

 **mudgayming** u cute lil shit

 **mudgayming** this is why i like u

* * * * * March 2nd * * * * *

**Soph-O-Matic** ALMAS

 **Soph-O-Matic** ALMAS PLEASE ANSWER

 **Soph-O-Matic** I'M SORRY I DIDN'T WANT TO COME TO THE AETHER FOUNDATION FOR THE MEDIA THING IT WAS FREAKING ME OUT

 **Soph-O-Matic** WAIT YOU'RE PROBABLY IN DANGER RIGHT NOW SO I'M GOING TO STOP MESSAGING YOU

 **Soph-O-Matic** BUT ONCE YOU'RE SAFE PLEASE TALK TO ME

 **mudgayming** im sorry im sorry im rlly sorry

 **mudgayming** i had my phone on silent b/c im tryin to stay hidden

 **mudgayming** i think im safe rn

 **Soph-O-Matic** Don't tell me where. I'm not sure that our conversation isn't being monitored. But I'm coming to find you and Mo.

 **Soph-O-Matic** Oh my god, Mo.

 **mudgayming** ill try n find him 4 u

 **Soph-O-Matic** NO

 **Soph-O-Matic** If you're safe, please stay safe. I'll find you.

 **Soph-O-Matic** I'm going to try and get ahold of Moon, she didn't go to the conference either.

 **mudgayming** ooh good idea

 **mudgayming** moons a fuckin scary champion badass now

 **mudgayming** she can get rid of whoever these assholes are

 **mudgayming** i thought i was done with dangerous bs after we all moved to aether, but

 **mudgayming** i guess i can b wrong

 **mudgayming** oh shit i gotta move ttyl

 **Soph-O-Matic** Stay safe.

* * * * * later, the same day * * * * *

**mudgayming** so um

 **mudgayming** i totally get it if ur not into me anymore

 **Soph-O-Matic** Why wouldn't I like you anymore?

 **mudgayming** because im not what u probably thought i was

 **mudgayming** because of, you know

 **mudgayming** the whole thing where my genitals don't come as advertised

 **Soph-O-Matic** Why would that matter?

 **Soph-O-Matic** Look, I like you, but I don't think either of us are ready to be doing that kind of thing yet.

 **Soph-O-Matic** I don't think we've technically established wheth

 **Soph-O-Matic** Shit, I didn't mean to send that.

 **mudgayming** cause were not dating

 **mudgayming** i get it

 **mudgayming** i wont bother u anymore, sorry

 **Soph-O-Matic** That is NOT what I'm trying to say.

 **Soph-O-Matic** I don't actually care about that kind of thing?

 **Soph-O-Matic** I like you, and if we do eventually get to a point where we're thinking about that, I'm pretty sure I'm going to be happy regardless of, um, logistics.

 **mudgayming** what the fuck is a logistics

 **Soph-O-Matic** "Logistics: the detailed coordination of a complex operation involving many people, facilities, or supplies."

 **mudgayming** do u mean like who's gonna top or bottom or whatever

 **Soph-O-Matic** LIKE I SAID I REALLY DON'T THINK EITHER OF US ARE READY TO BE DOING THAT KIND OF THING

 **mudgayming** omg i can see u across the room

 **mudgayming** u went BRIGHT red

 **mudgayming** cute

 **Soph-O-Matic** The point is that I like you and I want to date you and at this point in time I do not want to think about either of our genitals, because despite my maturity and ability to type with capitals, grammar, and punctuation, I am still a teenage boy and liable to explode.

 **Soph-O-Matic** Look who's blushing now.

 **mudgayming** ha ha very funny

 **mudgayming** we both know if i came over there u would be a hot mess in about ten seconds

 **Soph-O-Matic** Why do you think I'm staying on the other side of the room?

 **mudgayming** ...

 **Soph-O-Matic** I didn't mean that the way it came out. I meant that I like talking to you, but I don't know how to talk to you in person without being kind of a mess.

 **mudgayming** in case it missed ur notice, im also kind of a mess

 **mudgayming** literally today was the first time i saw u irl and my whole brain went "omg how does he have even more freckles in person"

 **mudgayming** & other things

 **mudgayming** despite the fact that we were literally in mortal peril or w/e

 **mudgayming** i can see u smiling

 **mudgayming** just come over here already so i can introduce u to jer n moonie

 **mudgayming** oh and also molly and rog

 **mudgayming** u don't have to meet raquel cause she's scary but cassie's ok

 **mudgayming** & i guess u already met bossman and plumeria

 **Soph-O-Matic** I didn't technically meet Miss Plumeria.

 **mudgayming** MISS PLUMERIA

 **mudgayming** do me a favor & call her that to her face

 **mudgayming** i just wanna see what happens

 **Soph-O-Matic** No, thank you. I have no desire to die today.

 **mudgayming** ok fine but come heeeeeeeeeeeeere

 **mudgayming** oh

 **mudgayming** hi

Soph blinked in confusion. "Why are we still texting? We're three feet away from each other."

Almas stared at him for a few moments, and felt all of the words in his throat shrivel up into dust. "U-um," he muttered, aware that he was coloring up and that his nearby friends were shamelessly eavesdropping. "I dunno."

"That's okay."

For a few moments they sat in silence, watching the other Skulls run around the big dining room and throwing food and generally acting like idiots— the way one does, when one has just been freed after being taken captive by creepy alternate universe villains. Almas peeked at Soph in time to meet his eyes, and found himself blushing when he saw the pink and red creeping onto his friend's face as well.

His _boyfriend's_ face, maybe? They hadn't actually clarified on that point yet.

"S-so," said Almas hesitantly, "We, um. We're—"

"Um, a thing?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that. Are we?"

"If you wanna be," said Soph quietly.

"Um— okay. I think maybe I do. Wanna be."

Sophocles nodded rapidly a few times, the pink surging into his cheeks again; then he scooted a little closer on the little sofa they were sitting on. "Okay," he mumbled. "Me, too."

For a few moments it was silent again— initially, in the sort of way that was suffocatingly awkward. But Almas peeked at him again, and saw that a little half-smile had quirked its way onto Soph's face.

Boyfriends sounded pretty nice.

"This is cute and all," drawled a long, lean, purple shadow, "but it's also the slowest thing I've ever seen."

Almas scowled up at her. "Fuck off, Raquel," he said primly. "We are both sensitive beans and if we need to take our time, there's nothing wrong with that."

"I'm not talking about your relationship, kiddo. You do you." Raquel waved an airy hand at him. "I mean the whole introductions bit, because I've got shit to do that probably involves helping Plumeria with some nasty cleanup stuff, and this is literally the only reason I'm still standing here waiting around."

"Oh," said Almas, feeling foolish. He glanced over at Soph, whose eyes had gone wide at the sight of Raquel— and to be fair, she was pretty intimidating. She had a lot of piercings and she did dark, smoky makeup in contrast to Plumeria's high-fashion neon habit, and she was tall and wore low-cut shirts but still looked like she could kick your ass.

Almas frowned. The "but still" was internalized misogyny bullshit, and it could fuck right off. Raquel was tall and wore low-cut shirts, _and_ she looked like she could kick your ass. That was more like it.

"Fine," he muttered resentfully. "Um, S-soph—" Soph went bright red. "This is Raquel. And she's a bi—" He reconsidered his word choices, because even if she wasn't right there, Plumeria would _Know_. She always, always _Knew_. "And she's the actual fucking worst."

"And damn proud of it," retorted Raquel, leaning over and ruffling at Almas's hair. "Thanks for indulging me, kid. See you later."

She sauntered off, but was promptly replaced by Jer and and a slightly demented-looking Molly with a nose splint, crowding in. Rogelio and Moonie, as was their habit, followed more sedately.

"Ohmygod _hi_ ," said Molly, grinning at Soph. "Obviously we've met before and all that, but it's the first time like, _meeting you_ meeting you. It's a pity that I am on the good fucking drugs right now, I'd rather have met you when I wasn't high."

"Especially after that little conversation, which was holy shit cute, like I thought I would _die_ cute—"

"Jer," said Moonie, smacking his boyfriend upside the head.

"Yes, darling dearest dove?"

"Shut the fuck up."

They began squabbling, and Molly was drafted in as the amused referee; but Rogelio drifted around all of it to sit on Soph's other side.

"I'm Rogelio," he said, with a soft smile. "We all love Almas a lot, so please treat him well, okay?"

Almas narrowed his eyes. "No matter how soft you are, that was still a shovel talk."

"I don't do shovel talks," said Rogelio archly. "I don't have to, given that you and the twits over there have often been the people wielding the shovels in question."

Almas winced. "Thanks for reminding me about things I have really, really been wanting to forget."

"I save the shovel talk for Plumeria," Rogelio informed him, and Almas paled because— well, really, that was _so_ much worse.

"Does it count if I already kind of got one from Mr. Guzma?" ventured Soph.

At this, Molly, Jer, and Moonie turned to look at him, wide-eyed. "Aw, no way," said Molly at once. "You got shovel talked by the boss man? Dude, did you bring spare pants?"

"Well," said Soph thoughtfully, "I don't know if it was an _aggressive_ shovel talk. But he pretty much said what Rogelio said. And—" He paused, clearing his throat. "Yeah, pretty much."

"And _what_?" Jer was a fucking Sharpedo, smelling blood in the water; his blue eyes gleamed with it as he leaned in. "What else did he say?"

Soph went bright red, almost curling back; and at this Almas promptly forgot his entire brain and flung himself across Soph's lap, pushing ineffectively at Jer's face. "Stop that! I repeat, we are both sensitive beans and we don't need your fucking peer pressure!"

"H-he said," said Soph hesitantly, placing one hand on Almas's shoulder to steady him, "that, um— um, that I should let Almas take care of me, a little bit." Almas felt his heart pound a little, hearing his name come out of Soph's mouth; but that mouth quirked into the half-smile again. "We can just, we can take care of each other."

For a few moments there was silence, and then Jer piped up with, "That's what _she_ said—"

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE," bellowed Moonie, so loudly that Almas and Soph both jumped on the bench, and other groups of chatting Skulls turned to look at them. "IF I'VE TOLD YOU ONCE, I'VE TOLD YOU A MILLION TIMES. STOP RUINING CUTE EMOTIONAL SHIT BY MAKING PUERILE INNUENDOES. IT IS NEITHER FUNNY NOR ENDEARING AND I HIGH-KEY WANT TO PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE RIGHT NOW."

Jer's eyes were wide by the time Moonie was done speaking, and then he said breathlessly, "Hey, I need to go to the bathroom real quick, you wanna come with me?"

Moonie rolled his eyes, but got to his feet and strolled out of the room with Jeremiah bouncing next to him.

"Are they, um..." began Soph, but the blush was blooming again and he trailed off.

"Yes," sighed Almas. "They are probably going to find an empty room to make out in. They are my best friends and I adore them, but they are also idiots."

"For them," explained Rogelio, "arguing and pushing each other's buttons is like... uh, well. Fuck, how do I say this..."

"It's foreplay," Molly informed them cheerfully, and Soph's blush went from pink to magenta in an instant. "But in a considerably healthier way than what, say, boss man and Plumeria had a few months ago. Boy, was _that_ a shitshow."

"The difference is, Jer might have tried to avoid talking about shit but Moonie would have none of it, and for some reason Moonie being bossy really like, _does_ it for Jer."

Almas cringed. "Can we please change the subject," he begged. "I don't think Soph wants to hear about their sex life. Arceus knows _I_ have to hear enough about it."

"I don't," said Soph immediately. "Um, want to hear about it, that is. I mean, good for them, as long as they're being, um— safe and responsible, and stuff. But I really, really don't want to know."

"Fair enough. We don't really want to know either, but that doesn't prevent the two of them from being inconsiderate, loud-ass kinky deviants," muttered Molly. "So, anyway, we're mostly now here to tell you about how flustered Al gets when you do anything, ever."

 _"Molly!"_ screeched Almas, mortified. "No! Fuck no! Off fucking limits!"

"But Almas," said Rogelio earnestly. "Think of the stories that would be told if it were Jer and Moonie trying to embarrass you. They know _all_ of the stories; we only know some of them."

"Wait 'til Gladion comes back," suggested Almas. "Or, how about this: _never_."

"Nice try, but Gladion wasn't living with us when you started talking to Soph."

Almas eyed them, unamused. "Or you could let the tradition of trying to embarrass someone in front of their partner die a swift and merciless death."

Molly considered this for a moment. "Actually, I rather like the sound of that."

"Yeah," agreed Rogelio. "Mostly because you phrased it in such a way that if we disagreed, we would look like dicks, so—"

There was a buzzing noise, and Rogelio promptly pulled out his phone to squint at it. Molly regarded him a few moments, a pitying expression on her face, then turned back to Almas and Soph. "Anyway, now that _he's_ out of commission, I will make sure nobody tries to embarrass you too much."

"Thanks."

"In return," said Molly, getting to her feet and hauling Rogelio up by his elbow, "please at the very least consider holding hands or something. Holding hands with people is fun. I'm going to take this one off to a quiet corner so he can be a lovelorn angstlord all by himself."

"Am not," said Rogelio vaguely, but the crease between his eyebrows as he read whatever messages he was getting told Almas that said messages were from Jack— and that meant that _lovelorn angstlord_ was fairly on the nose. Molly rolled her eyes and dragged him off; and that left just Almas and Soph.

"Sorry," mumbled Almas.

"Don't be sorry," said Soph quietly. "I mean— we're not so nervous now, right?"

"I— well, no, I guess not."

They both snickered at that. Almas glanced at Soph's hands, which were clasped together on his lap, and thought about maybe holding hands before deciding that he wasn't brave enough today; in fact, he had already been quite brave and therefore had a certifiable excuse to be out of bravery, for once. Maybe some other time.

That resolve crumbled when Soph unclasped his hands and reached out, placing one over one of Almas's clenched fists.

"We don't have to just because she said so. But it's okay so far, right?"

Almas nodded jerkily. "'S okay with me."

He uncurled his fingers and let his hands relax; and then he took a deep breath and threaded them slowly between Soph's fingers.

He looked up, and met Soph's dark, soft eyes. Soph smiled at him, a proper one this time; and he seemed content enough so Almas carefully inched a little closer.

A little at a time. That's all they needed.

* * * * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PokéTube and Chatwitter have been a thing in this fic before, it's not particularly creative but it's what I came up with lmao. However, Tortwitch happened thanks to @shadowalex2000 and Gliscord happened thanks to @tepalixed!!!! Thank you both for permission to use your great puns!!!!
> 
> Almas: *breathes*  
> Sophocles: here's 2.6k Poké (as usual in yen, aka about twenty-five dollars) for existing  
> Almas: omg thanks???  
> Sophocles: here's 2.6k Poké, also for existing. and another 2.6k for being pretty and another 2.6k for having a nice voice and anoth—  
> Almas: a-am i ur sugar baby  
> Sophocles: what  
> Almas: what
> 
> I know you probably can't directly share images in Twitch chat but humor me ok
> 
> "About time. You're a disaster gay and every time Soph says something nice on the stream you freak out for like, three days." "I'm just a disaster, period— oh my god he's typing oh god send help." — _mood_
> 
> get urself friends that give u platonic head smoochies for ur moral support
> 
> I have a love-hate relationship with Subnautica, but currently it has more to do with the fact that there's no way in hell my new computer, as nice as it is, will run that without throwing a temper tantrum; and it's probably not going to be on the Switch. They announced that Subnautica: Below Zero will be on the Switch, which is great!!! It will probably run like ass, though.
> 
> "so if this is like, u makin ur move then i need to know ur age 4 like legal reasons" — generally speaking the terror triplets are being written as my one (1) last braincell, but this is just common sense
> 
> "I'm also sixteen, though I understand if you don't believe me. I text like this because it's how I'm used to texting."— Sophocles over text may seem suddenly Very Not like Sophocles in person and I can see that it looks a little dissonant even while I'm writing the thing. HOWEVER, I am basing Sophocles' personality about 60% on my seventeen-year-old brother, who is a typical teenage memelord that types like a crotchety fifty-year-old college professor (and I love that for him, tbh). My brother is super smart, and also super awkward. So I apologize if my portray of Sophocles doesn't feel real to you; he feels pretty real to me.
> 
> "I'm overweight and pimply." "correction: ur made 4 cuddles, and ur skin is experiencing technical difficulties" — big mood
> 
> "We can't all be melodramatic, star-crossed lovers like Moon and Gladion." —READ THEM TO FILTH, MY SON
> 
> yes, the entire premise of the title "Flowers Grown From Bones" does, in fact, come from Minecraft. I think I've said somewhere in this series that I'm a crackhead, so if that didn't convince you maybe this will. and yes, I wrote a fuckin song about it.
> 
> "I like you, and when we do eventually get to a point where we're thinking about that, I'm pretty sure I'm going to be happy regardless of, um, logistics." "what the fuck is a logistics" " 'Logistics: the detailed coordination of a complex operation involving many people, facilities, or supplies.' " "do u mean like who's gonna top or bottom or whatever" "LIKE I SAID I REALLY DON'T THINK EITHER OF US ARE READY TO BE DOING THAT KIND OF THING" — I love both of them so much
> 
> and then once they're sitting next to each other it gets Fifty Million Times More Awkward. * _cackles and flies away on broomstick_ *
> 
> "Jer." "Yes, darling dearest dove?" "Shut the fuck up." —be prepared to hear this exact exchange between Jer and Moonie approximately 2379237429712981238 more times during this story
> 
> "I don't have to, given that you and the twits over there have often been the people wielding the shovels in question." — remember in Hibiscus when Cassie killed like five or six people and Jeremiah, Ki-moon, and Almas had to help get rid of the bodies? :)
> 
> "For a few moments there was silence, and then Jer piped up with, 'That's what _she_ said—' " —listen this is literally my sister, in any conversation ever. she's 25 and probably, technically "should" know better, but she doesn't give a fuck and I highkey _adore_ her for it. 
> 
> There are over a hundred kids in Team Skull. Dating/sex are going to happen pretty much by default, because most teenagers— hell, most _people_ are hormonal and impulsive. At this point, Guzma and Plumeria are like, "fuck it, fine, make sure you've got condoms and lube and Enthusiastic, Continual, Sober Consent; don't be afraid to go get tested for STIs; and don't get, or get anyone else, pregnant."


	2. INTERLUDE II: Primula sieboldii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a drunken confession far predates a real one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Primula sieboldii_ is also called Siebold's primrose, cherry blossom primrose, Japanese woodland primrose, Snowflake, Geisha girl, and Madam butterfly. One variant of _Primula sieboldii_ is known as the Drag Queen flower.
> 
> CTN Discord: https://discord.gg/XdqJAeRd
> 
>  ** _CONTENT WARNING:_** VERY problematic and dishonest relationship foundation, objectification of one character by another character, reference to previous minor character death, references to sex and a variety of kinks (all of which will be listed at the VERY VERY end of the author notes so you can scroll straight down really fast and only read the last part to see if you'll be okay with it. seriously be careful, it's an iffy topic and I know some of you guys are young so I don't want you to feel super creeped out.)
> 
> 1/13/21 update: ** _Please scroll down to the very bottom of the end notes, read the detailed content warnings there, and if you are okay with it then you can go ahead and read it. If you think you may find this content disturbing, please DM me so that I can provide a less squicky summary of the chapter for you. I am very, very, VERY happy to accommodate you on this!!!!!_**

* * * * * January 3rd * * * * *

"I literally hate this."

"Smile, bitch," ordered Molly, holding up the camera. "We didn't get you designer underwear so you could whine about it."

Rogelio glared at her for a few seconds. "You're not the one who has to do this."

"Trust me, if I thought for even half a second that Jack Felton would look at me more than twice, I'd have volunteered in a heartbeat. But he prefers his girls pretty similarly shaped to how he prefers his boys— that is to say, slender and a bit androgynous in the right clothes. I am fat and unquestionably femme no matter what I wear, so it wouldn't have worked."

Rogelio closed his eyes, then reached up and pulled the too-large sweater off one shoulder before twisting to pose languidly on the bed.

"Long neck," called Moonie, directing the shoot from a distance. "It's bunching up and you look uncomfortable— there you go, good job."

Almas sat on the floor with his Mudbray in his lap, glaring at Molly. "I still think this is essentially prostitution, with a side dish of homophobia that nobody asked for."

"You weren't asked," said Raquel, and honestly if she hadn't been in the room, Rogelio could have pretended that they were just taking pictures for Spindagram, or even Fletchtinder. Raquel wasn't one of them, wasn't part of their group. She wasn't One Of The Gays, as Molly liked to put it. She was a reminder that the Team-Skull-Plus-Friends master plan to take down a criminal organization was currently relying on accidentally-on-purpose almost-nudes sent by a barely legal twink in an attempt to snare the heart of a notoriously heartless guy who frankly, Rogelio wasn't even sure was _really_ bisexual. Raquel had been known to prank people before.

In all honesty: they were fucked.

"Okay," said Ki-moon finally. "I think you've got enough with the sweater on."

"I have to take it _off_?"

"We know you're a prude, dad," said Jeremiah, without looking up from his phone. Raquel snickered.

Rogelio inhaled, then let it out slowly. "Please don't call me dad," he said wearily.

"You're pretty much our dad. You were the one who got us the condoms when we first got here. You literally said, _please practice safe sex_. It's such a dad thing to say and you are totally a dad."

"Okay, fine, but maybe don't fucking call me dad while I'm in the middle of a nude photoshoot?"

"It's better than _daddy_ , isn't it—"

"Jer," said Moonie conversationally.

"Yes, muffin?"

"Shut the fuck up."

They began squabbling, and Rogelio shifted uncomfortably on the fancy Aether bed that didn't feel like home even though they'd been here for nearly three weeks. Molly caught his eye and offered an apologetic smile.

"It's bullshit," she said softly, "but they think it will work."

Rogelio eyed her. "Do _you_ think it will work?"

"Yeah, actually. I was at that party, when he got pissed out of his mind and started talking about being an equal-opportunity genitalia connoisseur."

"I bet he didn't phrase it like that," murmured Rogelio, raising one eyebrow at her.

"Nah," said Molly, with a sharp smirk. "Honestly, he's kind of dumb. I don't know what you see in him."

Rogelio flushed, and she motioned for him to peel off the sweater.

"Lie down on the bed," called Moonie, clearly having won whatever argument he'd had with Jeremiah; the latter was sulking, glaring at his phone as though it had personally offended him. "Molly, up on the chair so you can get an aerial shot."

"Where does the chair go?"

"Foot of the bed. Aim the camera so you've just got the lower half of his face— nose is fine, but not the eyes. Rog, one hand up by your head— curl it, kind of loose, just like that. Good. Other hand on your stomach." He surveyed Rogelio. "Lower."

"It's not really on my _stomach_ anymore."

"Everything's covered by the sheet, but that _is_ kind of the point."

Rogelio made a face, but moved his hand where Moonie indicated it should go. Molly wiggled her eyebrows devilishly.

"Now, take a deep breath."

He tried— he really did. But he felt stupid, and Jeremiah wasn't paying attention but he was being studiously annoyed at Moonie, and he could feel that from the other end of the room; and Almas was angry on his behalf and he could feel that too; and Raquel was sitting in the corner being all scientific about it and that was worst of all.

"All right," said Moonie, after a few moments. "What's wrong?"

Rogelio closed his eyes and sighed. "Could maybe all of you but Molly and Moonie just like, go out of the room for a few minutes?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," said Moonie at once, and Rogelio winced because that was the tone that Moonie used when he felt bad about something. "Everybody out."

"I have to stay," said Raquel.

"Not for the photography, you don't. You can watch me edit." Moonie waved her, Jeremiah, and Almas out of the room, taking the camera from Molly. "Molly, can you adjust the light?"

"Sure." She climbed down from the chair and began re-angling the big lamp that they were using, lighting up Rogelio's skinny chest and soft stomach as well as the gray bedsheet covering everything below his waist.

"Okay," said Moonie quietly. "Sorry, I didn't think they would all bother you that much."

"You are taking pictures of me while I am mostly not wearing clothes. Not really a spectator sport."

"Yeah, I should have known. Okay, hand up, other on your stomach. Breathe in, then let it out slow. And again. And... one more time." Moonie paused, stepping up on the chair and holding up the camera. "You're doing great. Now, think about that time Lianhong challenged Jack to a pushup contest, specifically when Jack was doing the pushups where he claps his hands in the middle. Got it? Now smile and bite your lower lip on one side."

Rogelio did exactly that, because it was a pretty nice memory and all of them knew it; and he immediately felt like an idiot but the camera flashed and Moonie peered at the results, raising an eyebrow.

"Okay, damn," he said, after a few seconds. "I usually just think of you as our grumpy, skinny twink dad who likes plants and drag queens, but this is a really good picture. Like, you look hot and I would consider sending this in a portfolio, kind of good."

Rogelio sat up and held out his hands, beckoning. Moonie put the camera in his hands, and he frowned at it for a few moments.

"It just looks like me."

"Maybe to you, but I think that that's probably what you're most hung up about." Moonie took the camera back. "I might do that one in black and white... up the contrast a little, maybe warm the lighting."

"Because I'm brown, and somehow still pasty."

"Yes, very that. Okay, now turn on your stomach, and Molly's going to arrange the sheet over your ass to show the very _tiniest_ hint of ass-crack—"

"I'm not fucking sending him my ass-crack as an _accidental_ nude," said Rogelio, appalled. "If that last one was so good, we can just use it, can't we?"

Moonie considered. "You definitely have to say you had me or Molly help you take it," he reminded him, pulling the SD card out of the camera. "But if you throw a Spindagram filter on it, he'll assume it was just done on your phone. Let me put this into my laptop, tweak it a bit, and send it to you."

"And then scrub it from your system."

"But it's not _really_ a nude, and it would be great in my portfolio..."

Rogelio eyed him. "It better not go to anywhere on the Internet until after everything is finished."

"Cross my heart," promised Moonie.

Rogelio nodded, and reached for his sweater. Molly, to his gratitude, had remained quiet under Moonie's direction and now opened his dresser to fling some clean shorts in his direction. Chanterelle had been watching from the dresser and held out her arms once he was dressed; he picked her up and petted her absently. Molly let the others back in the room. Moonie was already absorbed in his work, frowning over the photoshop application and changing the way the light shone in the picture.

"You're not really changing anything," said Raquel, hovering over Moonie's shoulder.

"Don't need to."

"Yeah," said Molly, frowning at Raquel. "You know exactly what Jack said, at that party."

"I wasn't there."

"Oh, like Cassie didn't tell you the very _second_ he mentioned Rogelio."

Raquel scowled.

"What do you mean, he mentioned me?" said Rogelio, confused.

"Apparently when he outed himself," said Jeremiah, pulling his phone out of his pocket and walking across to sit next to Rogelio on the bed, "he said some stuff about you specifically."

He passed the phone to Rogelio and tapped play on a video on the screen. The person holding the camera was clearly drunk and the visuals kept blurring together, but the audio was pristine. Rogelio watched and listened, still clutching Chanterelle.

"And— and, god, you know who's _really_ fucking hot? Like, really, _really_ fucking hot? Like—" There were some incoherent mumbling noises, but then, Jack Felton said clearly, " _Silveira_."

The pit dropped out of Rogelio's stomach. Everyone in the video went oddly quiet.

"No, listen! I know you're all judging the shit out of me, but _listen_. Have you ever like, _looked_ at the guy? He's got fuckin'... I dunno, Deerling eyes. Something out of one of those Kantonian cartoons. They're big and round and they're fuckin' pretty, bro. You can't really see it with those grandpa-ass glasses but like, when he does that thing where he takes them off and cleans them with the hem of his shirt and he's like, not looking at you... like holy fuck I just kind of want to pin him down and choke him?"

Rogelio squeaked and threw the phone across the room.

"Hey, careful!" yelped Jeremiah. "And he's not done."

Like an omen, Jack's voice floated drunkenly, hauntingly out of Jeremiah's phone speakers. "He kind of looks like he'd cry during sex. I'm kind of into that." There was a pause, as Jeremiah picked up the phone and quietly returned to the bed. "Like he just looks soft, I don't know. There's something about Silveira. Yeah, I dunno. There's something about him."

The video ended.

"Why— why do you _have_ that video," said Rogelio. His voice came out very faint.

"In case I need blackmail."

"Why would you need _blackmail?"_

Jeremiah rolled his eyes. "Well, I offered it as like, a better alternative to prostituting you out, but they turned me down. Now I have it because if you really do end up with him, I'll need something that will assist Moonie and Al and me, a trio of tiny gay boys, in giving him, a muscle pig, a shovel talk that won't look absolutely ridiculous."

"I'm touched that you have such faith in me," said Rogelio flatly.

"This way is better in the long-term." There was something hard in Raquel's dark eyes.

The thing was— Rogelio and Raquel weren't friends, but they came from the same community: a neighborhood of half-Orrean, half-Kalosian people that had moved to Alola about forty years previously. Raquel was fluent in Orcalos, the language that their people had blended together, whereas Rogelio only knew how to say a couple of words, mostly food and slang; but they grew up together. They ate cassava chips and _picanha,_ and they would line up at the food truck that stopped on their street, just outside Raquel's house and a few down from Rogelio's, and buy a large carton of _acarajé com vatap_ _á_. And of course, Raquel's mom made the best _brigadeiros da escosia_ in the entire neighborhood. Rogelio had tried to make the truffles in the kitchen, but he was shit at cooking and sometimes, despite the fact that the community would never, ever take him back— sometimes, he missed them.

They had never been all that close, but: they were the same people, the same culture. Raquel was, in every way, a typical Orcalheña (as their people had taken to calling themselves) girl. Loud, brash, unapologetically feminine in her demeanor, confident. Rogelio was not, by contrast, a typical Orcalheño boy.

He looked at Raquel, and she looked back, and her eyes were hard and angry— understandably so, because that video had been filmed while she and Jack had been friends-with-benefits and it probably hurt a little bit to hear him talk about finding someone else hot. Rogelio willed her to understand that it wasn't his fault, that he didn't ask for it, and the fact that the compliments had sent a hot flush up his chest and back down to... well, _lower_.. it wasn't meant to insult her.

She must have understood, because she let out a soft sigh and muttered something in Orcalos. Rogelio didn't speak it but he could pick out words here and there.

" _Foda-se, você está sendo uma vadia..._ "

She stood up and walked over to Rogelio. " _Eu sinto muito, baixinho_."

He understood enough Orcalos to know _that_ , and accepted the hug she gave him. "Fuck you, I'm not short."

"I'm literally apologizing to you, and you're being an ass about what I call you?" Raquel rolled her eyes, but there was a look of fondness in them now. "You're lucky I don't break your kneecaps. You know how us Orcalheñas get about someone stealing their man."

"He wasn't _your_ man," pointed out Almas. "It was friends with benefits."

"No," agreed Raquel. "But I still went and caught a couple of feelings like a dumbass, didn't I?" She shrugged. "Whatever, I'll get over it."

"I volunteer as your rebound fuck," said Molly, not looking at them as she focused on what Moonie was doing at the computer.

"I'm flattered, but I'll have to pass."

"Fair enough." Molly offered a thumbs-up, still without looking.

Raquel turned back to study Rogelio for a few moments. "He said some shit," she said, still watching him, "about wanting to pin you down and choke you or whatever."

Rogelio felt himself go Cherrim-red. "I-I heard."

"He and I didn't do much of anything kinky. It was more about getting off— but he liked being on top, until one day I flipped him over and kept going and I think his entire brain exploded."

"How the fuck did you do _that_? You're nearly as skinny as me."

"Legs," said Raquel succinctly. "You need to start going to the gym, _baixinho_. Aether's got a free one for employees, and we have access to it. Your shoulders and abs don't matter, he already likes those, but if _you_ want to be able to flip him over then you're going to need legs that aren't little chicken drumsticks. And it will do wonders for your ass."

"Dad already has the booty, he doesn't need—"

"I'm sorry," said Raquel tartly, turning around to glare at Almas. "Do _you_ have prior experience in how Jack Felton fucks? No? Then kindly shut up." She turned back to Rogelio. "He's an ass man, but that's a damn good picture."

 _"_ Thanks, _irm_ _ã_ _,"_ mumbled Rogelio, flushing.

"If he breaks your heart, _baixinho_ , I'll make you truffles," she said, and left the room.

"What did she say to you?" said Jeremiah curiously. "That thing she called you. Bye— bye-sheen-yo?"

" _Baixinho_ ," corrected Rogelio, almost absently. "It means— shorty, I guess. But it's kind of like, in a cute way. It's a pet name."

"So she isn't really the heartless bitch she likes to pretend to be?"

Rogelio stared at him incredulously. "Raquel makes people chocolate on their birthdays. She learned how to get Dalisay lying down safely during her seizures. She literally goes and gets flowers for people who are going through rough shit. Where did you get the idea that she's a heartless bitch?"

"Honey," said Molly gently, "she does not do that for everyone. The chocolate and flowers were for Jack, Cassie, and you. And everyone's got a soft spot for Dalisay, she doesn't count."

"I don't have a soft spot for her," muttered Jeremiah mutinously. "She fucking stayed in Po Town, and she could have come with us."

"The Foxes control her seizure medication. She didn't really have much of a choice."

"Oh, like Ms. Wicke couldn't have gotten any for her?"

"She doesn't trust Aether, which is absolutely fair given some of the shadier shit they've done. And she doesn't trust big pharma in general, given the price of her meds without insurance. Ten grand outta pocket for ninety pills is fucking _dumb_. Let's change the subject," said Molly firmly. "Rog, come look at the finished product."

Rogelio shuffled awkwardly across the room with Chanterelle clinging to his shirt. Ki-moon was pretty damn good with a camera, he decided. The person in the picture didn't quite look like the Rogelio that he saw in the mirror every day, but it was still recognizably him, with the tattooed vines spiraling up his upper right arm and curling into small green bell-shaped flowers. Bells of Armor, they were called; they grew native to the Isle of Armor, off the coast of Galar. They were one of Rogelio's favorite flowers, and he had a lot of those.

"That looks good," he said, with a sigh. "Go ahead and send it to me."

"Hell yeah." Moonie closed the file and clicked on a few things, and Rogelio felt a buzz in his pocket that meant he'd received the picture. "Be sure and put a Spindagram filter on it, but just a really soft one. I edited it so it would work with either the Gingham or the Mayfair filter."

"I don't know that I'd call Mayfair _soft_."

"It's for making the tattoo pop, if you want to emphasize that," explained Moonie. "But personally, I'd go with the Gingham."

Rogelio went with the Gingham, and there the picture was— waiting, until he turned eighteen in three days.

* * * * * January 5th * * * * *

**Chat: Rogelio Silveira, Jack Felton**

**Rogelio Silveira** : Picture Attachment: [IMG314.jpeg]

 **Rogelio Silveira** : OMG PLEASE DONT OPEN THAT

 **Rogelio Silveira** : i didn't mean to send it, im so sorry!!!

 **Jack Felton** : its all good dont worry about it

 **Jack Felton** : tho if u wanna accidentally send more pix like that im not gonna complain lmao

Rogelio stared at Molly, terrified. " _Now_ what?"

"We did take more than one picture," she pointed out. "Moonie's been working on editing them for the last few days, but right now you don't want to send another one. You are a spider, and he is a fly. You're pulling him in slowly."

"I don't know what the fuck to say to that though! This was a stupid plan, it hinges on me _not_ being awkward and _I don't know how to do that!_ Oh my god this was so dumb. This was so fucking dumb. I'm going to get us all killed because I have almost no experience in actually flirting with someone. Fuck."

Molly raised an eyebrow at him. "You done?" she said flatly.

"Yeah."

"Give me the phone, I'm going to fish for a compliment."

Rogelio eyed her suspiciously, but she just held out her hand and waited.

**Chat: Rogelio Silveira, Jack Felton**

**Rogelio Silveira** : why wouldnt u complain?

 **Rogelio Silveira** : i know im not rlly that much 2 look at

 **Jack Felton** : ur not ugly lol

 **Jack Felton** : ill send u one, if u send me another

Rogelio had to physically close his eyes to keep them from popping out of his skull in surprise. Molly let out a whoop.

"It worked!" she cheered. "He took the bait! Get _fucked_ , Foxes!"

* * * * * mid January * * * * *

**Chat: bougainvillea & white clover**

**him** : gm, how r u today

 **me** : p good thx :) how r u

 **him** : also p good

 **him** : Picture Attachment: [IMG182.jpeg]

 **me** : oh so its abs day huh

 **him** : yep

 **me** : ur lookin p good

 **me** : muscles r doin what they do

 **me** : good job, jacks muscles

 **him** : u made me laugh in the middle of a set lmao

 **him** : emmett told me to shut up and text my gf later

 **me** : is that who u told him i was

 **him** : i didn't say bf or gf, i said i met someone

 **him** : he assumed a girl

 **me** : i could probably pass for a girl in the right clothes

 **him** : h oly fcuk

 **him** : at least wait until im not in public to say shit like that

 **him** : i popped a boner. emmett n ko r laffin at me

 **me** : sorry

 **him** : i mean dont apologize b/c that's... rlly hot

 **him** : just a lil embarrassing

 **me** : a kink u didnt know u had? :P

 **him** : yea p much

* * * * * late January * * * * *

**Chat: bougainvillea & white clover**

**him** : ur fuckin w/ me

 **me** : s2g im not

 **him** : ur favorite tv show is about drag queens.

 **me** : listen i will write u a goddamn essay about why alola's drag race is the best fuckin show to ever go on television

 **me** : its got drama, its got angst, it's got creativity, it's got art

 **me** : and it's got v hot gay men dressing up as women and lip-syncing to pop classics

 **me** : what more can u ask 4

 **him** : maybe ill check it out

 **me** : make sure ur alone tho

 **me** : i dont want emmett or kohaku 2 give u a hard time about it

 **him** : they can both get fucked

 **him** : they both know if they say shit about what i watch ill deck them and not even be sorry about it

 **me** : but wouldnt kohaku get u in trouble w/ the foxes if u hit him?

 **him** : o yea probably

 **him** : but it wouldn't matter 4 emmett and we all have different rooms now so i could watch by myself

 **him** : is it on netballflix

 **me** : no but u can buy a season at a time on aggron prime or poketube

 **me** : or we could use that app where we can both watch something at the same time b/c we have netballflix at aether

 **him** : lets do that, b/c im poor

 **me** : lmao same

* * * * * January 30th * * * * *

**chat: bougainvillea & white clover**

**him** : rogelio

 **me** : yea?

 **him** : have u talked to moon lately

 **me** : i talk to moonie all the time

 **him** : not ki-moon. u know, moon. gladion's girl

 **me** : i have a chat with just her and molly, and also one with her, molly, the terrible triplets, and cass

 **me** : it's mostly memes but she definitely sends her fair share

 **him** : ok

 **him** : will u see if she's ok

 **me** : did something happen?

 **him** : yea

 **him** : she seemed ok but me n emmett r kinda not so i just wanted 2 check

 **me** : omg

 **him** : ?

 **me** : i just heard what happened

 **him** : yea?

 **me** : holy shit jack im so sorry

 **me** : about kohaku

 **me** : i know he wasn't v nice but he was ur friend

 **him** : ko didn't have friends

 **him** : not rlly

 **him** : but like...

 **me** : yea?

 **him** : solgaleo.

 **me** : ??!?

 **him** : did they not tell u about that

 **me** : no????

 **him** : he was there

 **him** : afh he was terrifying

 **him** : he fuckin cut one of their head off

 **him** : he cut the others into ribbons

 **me** : omg

 **him** : and then tapu bulu showed up

 **him** : and he's the one who killed ko

 **him** : it was fucked up

 **him** : i guess that foxglove guy who founded the foxes, he was ko's uncle or smth?

 **him** : and i knew ko was fucked up but he was screaming shit at solgaleo and tapu bulu

 **him** : i thought i was go ing to p iss msyel f

 **him** : fcuk i cant tp ye rn

 **me** : call me

 **him** : w vee nev re done taht

 **me** : i dont give a fuck call me

"...and... I think the worst part was... well, Moon."

Rogelio frowned. He was outside, sitting on the edge of one of the big garden planters. "Why?"

"She was like—" Jack's breath hitched slightly. "You've seen her battle, right? You see how she focuses, how she... she's like..."

"How the rest of the world stops mattering," said Rogelio softly.

"Yeah. It was like that, except she wasn't battling. She was just looking at them. Legendary Pokémon. Talking to them, like they were her _friends_ or something. And it was like— you know how Plumeria is hot but in a scary way?"

"Uh— aesthetically speaking, I guess?"

"Oh right, you're not into chicks." Jack paused. "Guzma's just straight up scary, but... ugh, I guess Gladion? He's a fucking douchebag, but he's also hot. In a scary way."

"Okay," conceded Rogelio. "Tell that to my sixteen-year-old self, who tried to ask him out about two weeks after joining Team Skull, but I understand."

"You're kidding." But Jack was laughing.

"I swear to Arceus, I'm not. I asked him out, and he said no but he was really nice about it."

Jack was still laughing, but there was something strange in it— something that caught, something that burst. Rogelio realized, in shock and horror, that Jack was crying.

"Jack?" he said softly. "Jack, what's wrong?"

"...s-sorry," muttered Jack. "It's— fuckin' allergies, I get them every year."

"Jack."

"What?" he said, a touch defensively.

"You don't have to pretend with me."

There was a long silence, and Rogelio simply waited.

"Okay," said Jack softly. "Okay, yeah. Not with you, you're like— you're cool about that kind of thing."

They both sighed, at the same time.

"Solgaleo licked my face."

Rogelio sat bolt upright. "He _what_?"

"Licked my face," repeated Jack. "It was kind of... gross, because he'd just been killing people and there was blood on his mouth. But he was just— he said—"

There was a long silence, during which he could only hear the harsh breaths of the other.

"He said, _listen to your friends, and the people who love you._ And that— that _I have the opportunity to make amends for the hurt I've caused to others_."

"Well," said Rogelio cautiously, "that's a good thing, right? You get a second chance."

"I don't—" Jack sucked in a harsh breath. "Rogelio, I don't _know_."

He sounded desperate. Rogelio reminded himself to be patient. "You don't know what?"

"I don't... I don't know who. Who _would_."

Blood pounded in Rogelio's ears; and something soft, something bitter, something sweet, something he had nurtured for a long time rose, from his chest to his throat. "You don't know who would love you?"

Jack's breath hitched. "Y-yeah. I'm not— I'm not a. A good person. I've done some bad shit. Some really, really bad shit."

Rogelio closed his eyes. "Jack," he said quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Emmett loves you."

That earned him a snort of laughter. "Like he'd ever admit it."

"Probably not. And I know you don't really talk to her much, but Raquel loves you. As a friend, anyway."

"I guess. We text sometimes."

"Trust me, she does. And—" Rogelio took a deep, quiet breath and let it out, equally quietly. "Jack, I love you, too."

There was a long, painful silence. Cold crept through his veins; it carried rejection, insecurity, doubt— he'd been so _stupid_ , he shouldn't have said anything—

"Y-you do?"

Jack's voice was almost too quiet to be heard over the call.

"Yeah," breathed Rogelio, relief coursing through him. "Yeah, Jack, of course I do. You're my friend."

"We're... friends."

"Oh, definitely. We're whatever you want us to be."

Another long silence, but this one was... hazier, somehow. It was a less subtle line than most of the flirtation Rogelio had initiated with Jack.

"Friends," said Jack finally, "that send each other nudes?"

"Well— sometimes you're more than friends."

It was sort of killing him to not say something like, _We're actually cyber-sexting on a fairly regular basis and I'm embarrassingly emotionally attached to you._ Jack tended to panic when Rogelio was direct about that kind of thing, so he had learned to be gentle, to be subtle, to give Jack the refuge of vagueness.

"What if..." Jack trailed off.

"What if?" Rogelio prompted him, after a few moments.

"Do you—" Jack paused, and Rogelio heard him swallow audibly. "Do you want to... meet up sometime?"

Rogelio's breath caught. " _Yes_ ," he said breathlessly, thinking about— warmth, strength, _intimacy_.

"For, um... like, coffee? Or we could— we could see a movie, or something."

Something slow like fire burned, starting in his chest and slowly crawling up behind his eyes. Jack was secretly a die-hard romantic, which had been hell on Rogelio because he'd despaired about it ever being directed his way. Even better than the idea of sex was the possibility of, maybe, something _more_.

He would not cry. _He would not fucking cry_. "Yes," he whispered. "Jack, yes, I— I really want to. With you."

There was a long silence. "Okay," murmured Jack. "Um, we can. We can do that."

* * * * * March 2nd * * * * *

**chat: bougainvillea & white clover**

**him** : what the fuck did you guys do

 **me** : what

 **him** : van is fuckin PISSED

 **him** : like, scary pissed

 **me** : let me ask u a question first

 **him** : ?

 **me** : did u know about team rainbow rocket?

 **him** : what

 **me** : b/c van's got no room to be pissed off when 1 of his minions held us at gunpoint in a room 4 abt 5 hrs with no food, water, or toilet breaks

 **me** : plumeria, molly, raquel and i were held separate

 **me** : they broke molly's nose and she damn near fainted from blood loss

 **me** : so when u say "what the fuck did you guys do" it sounds a little like ur blaming us for his bad temper

 **me** : jack im a pretty forgiving person most of the time but im absolutely not gonna sit here & let u talk that kind of shit until u know the whole story

 **him** : WHAT

 **him** : WHAT THE FUCK

 **me** : van sent a bunch of people who took aether paradise hostage

 **me** : which includes the majority of team skull

 **him** : includes all of team skull

 **him** : not really a skull anymore am i

 **me** : would u rather b a fox

 **him** : fuck no

 **him** : they're all psychotic bastards

 **me** : then shush, ur still a skull

 **me** : so yea the reason he's pissed is because moon sailed in and saved the day

 **me** : she kind of does that, u know

 **him** : yeai guess she does lmao

 **him** : r u ok tho

 **him** : u said they broke molly's nose, did they hurt u?

 **me** : van said some shit

 **me** : b/c it's pretty clear from looking at my twink ass that i am, in fact, One Of The Gays

 **me** : & i said some shit back, so i got slapped in the face

 **him** : he said like, nasty shit?

 **him** : about u bein gay?

 **me** : yes, it was homophobic and not at all nice

 **him** : fuck im sorry

 **him** : that sucks

 **me** : thanks but tbh ive heard worse

 **me** : & u know molly, she can't keep her mouth shut

 **me** : jeremiah and moonie talked back and also hid almas in the a/c vents so the thugs couldnt get him, they would have been a lot worse to him

 **me** : so they have a fat lip and black eye, respectively

 **him** : shit

 **him** : look i still think almas's whole thing is like... fuckin weird

 **him** : but weve been watchin that show together & some of the people on it r like that so its not like

 **him** : it doesnt bother me as much as it used 2

 **me** : im glad

 **me** : almas has been thru enough shit

 **me** : one less person who that thinks he's wrong or gross is a victory, even if it's just a small one

 **him** : sure

 **him** : look, if this is stupid just like say so

 **him** : but the coffee thing went okay

 **him** : went pretty good actually

 **him** : and now im like lowkey freakin out that u went thru all that

 **him** : do u think u can get away 4 a bit? meet me at the same cafe?

 **me** : yea

 **me** : i want 2

 **me** : u make me feel safe

* * * * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so the entire beginning of the Rogelio/Jack relationship is Problematic As Hell, & it isn't even the fault of Jack's toxic masculinity issues. This will absolutely, definitely, 100% change. we r working toward HEALTHY RELATIONSHIPS in this fic thank u v much
> 
> Rogelio wearing something too big to show off his shoulder is 5000% inspired by one Park fucking Jimin and his goddamn. inability. to keep. his clothes on. _*screams into the void*_
> 
> "Jer?" "Yes, muffin?" "Shut the fuck up." —it's already become a theme and we've been here for five seconds I—
> 
> so... Jack already thinks Rogelio is attractive...
> 
> Without mutual consent, the kinks that Jack mentions are hella problematic. WHICH IS WHY CONSENT IS IMPORTANT
> 
> HELLO AND WELCOME TO SCRIBE MUTATING FICTIONAL REGIONS/CULTURES TO FIT IRL REGIONS/CULTURES. In case you did not catch this from all of the surrounding text, "Orcalos" is Portuguese, specifically Brazilian Portuguese. I took the idea from how Portuguese is mostly similar to Spanish, but has some influences from the French language as well; this is reflected in the combination of Kalos (France) and Orre, which is actually based on Arizona but I decided that it could stand in for Hispanic culture (Mexico moreso than Spain, but it is the same language. mostly. Castilian Spanish and South American Spanish do have some differences in pronunciations), primarily because I don't really want to make up my own and even though I've referenced fangame regions in this series.
> 
> And thus: Rogelio and Raquel have a pre-Team Skull acquaintance and I made my heart hurt. Also: brigadeiros da escosia are little chocolate truffles that you hand-roll in coatings. My mom makes them for holidays, and we're not at all Brazilian so probably someone took the recipe and gave it a White (TM) name and sent it to Taste of Home or whatever; but they are like eating little pieces of Pure Sin and I love them so much!!!!
> 
> Raquel's Portuguese translations: "Fuck it, I'm being a bitch" and then, "I'm sorry." _Baixinho_ really is a pet name, and it can be used with both significant others or like, little kids. in this case it's DEFINITELY the latter
> 
> "Legs. You need to start going to the gym, baixinho. The shoulders and abs don't matter, he already likes those, but if you want to be able to flip him over then you're going to need legs that aren't little chicken drumsticks. And it will do wonders for your ass." —sometimes, I write something and I look back at it and I go, _how the fuck did I write this._
> 
> " 'Thanks, _irmã,'_ mumbled Rogelio, flushing." —so listen he just called her "big sister" I—
> 
> The Isle of Armor is Ireland, the Crown Tundra is Scotland, and you can't change my goddamn mind.
> 
> yes I did literally research Instagram filters for this why am I so extra
> 
> again, sorry about the Problematic As Fuck beginning of the Rogelio/Jack content
> 
> Rogelio 100% identifies as male, but It! Is! Okay! For! Boys! To! Explore! Feminine! Gender! Expression! HOWEVER: Jack's immediate objectification of that is Gross, and I do not agree with it but we're going to like, go into that later on. remember how I said that Gladion once had a lot of toxic masculinity views but you could assume that Plumeria and Molly between them trained him out of them because I didn't feel like writing that? ...well, now I'm writing that. but for Jack instead of Gladion.
> 
> "they can both get fucked" "they both know if they say shit about what i watch ill deck them and not even be sorry about it" —on the one hand: not really caring what other dudes think about the tv programs you watch is woke. on the other hand: punching them because you're getting defensive about it is not. so, you know, character growth? ...a, a little?
> 
> I will be exploring, in more detail, what Jack (and by proxy Emmett and other Skulls) have been going through since Kohaku's death; but the snapshot is important.
> 
> "afh he was terrifying" — I was going to write "jfc" because that's something Jack would probably say, and then I remembered that Christianity isn't a thing in CTN, so I have invented the acronym AFH which stands for Arceus Fucking Hell, which I have used before for the same flavor
> 
>  ** _CONTENT WARNING:_** kinks referenced are: breathplay, daddy kink, crossdressing. breathplay and crossdressing are mentioned in a problematic context, dk is referenced as a joke


	3. INTERLUDE III: Guzmania lingulata

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some asshole hits rock bottom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Guzmania lingulata_ is also known as a droophead tufted airplant. The most common cultivar of _Guzmania lingulata_ is called "Scarlet Star."
> 
> CTN Discord: https://discord.gg/8HFnnsyz
> 
>  ** _CONTENT WARNING:_** traumatizing experiences, depiction of a seizure, problematic relationship issues, dysfunctional characters and relationships, characters shouting at each other, and a lot of swearing

* * * * * early-mid December * * * * *

"Guzma, wake up!"

Her voice trilled in his ear, a headache and a half.

On god, honest to Arceus? It kinda reminded him of the time that one of the twins— goddamn it, he kept mixing up their names. One was Jianhong and one was Yaling, and he knew one was a boy and one was a girl but he couldn't for the life of him remember which name belonged to which twin. Internalized racism, fucking _stupid_. Goddamn brain, not remembering important shit when he needed it.

Anyway, it was the boy twin, and he decided for some reason he wanted to learn to play the violin. So Guzma picked up a cheap-ass plastic violin at the flea market in the community center, because the boy twin was a pretty good kid. And the kid had brought the stick with strings on it up to the other strings, and—

 _Screeeeeaaatch_.

Guzma had decided promptly: _fuck this shit, I'm out_. And whichever twin it was, thankfully, had decided the same thing after a few days. It might've had something to do with everyone throwing socks at him every time he tried to play anything, but at least the godawful noise stopped.

The point was, her voice kind of sounded like that, and his head felt like it was full of cotton.

All around them was nothing but darkness, but thanks to all the glowy plants and coral and shit, he could see for ages. She skipped along, calling out as she walked. "Arbutus! Arbutus! My love, where are you?"

Guzma had to keep from rolling his eyes as he followed. He wasn't getting five milion P's if he didn't mind his P's and Q's, after all.

* * * * * ? ? ? * * * * *

Later, he sort of wished he hadn't minded his P's and Q's. Maybe he could have shamed her out of thinking that _actual fucking monsters_ were going to help her find her missing nutjob husband.

* * * * * December 28th * * * * *

The blackness opened into light; the colors whirled around him. He was going to be fucking sick.

And then something solid slammed into his stomach; he was on the ground. He groaned and cracked open his eyes.

It was home, thank fuck, but— there was something wrong. There was something _wrong_. He could still hear it, could still hear the void and the colors and the empty wrongness of space—

—could still hear the siren shriek of the black crystal monster, growing gradually louder behind him—

Something shifted, and he focused his gaze before looking up. There stood Gladion and Moon, wearing slim-fitted space suits like what the aliens wore, the few times he'd seen them.

And behind them stood the aliens, and Gladion's kid sister (he'd only just learned about it before he went to space. They looked exactly the fuck alike and furthermore they looked exactly the fuck like _her_ , how didn't he realize? He'd been preoccupied, sure, but he wasn't fucking _blind_ ), and Hala's grandkid, and—

Oh, no.

Oh, _fuck_ no.

"Are you all fuckin' idiots or something?" he rasped, bile rising in his throat. "Get the fuck out of here, get it away—"

"Get what away?" said Moon.

" _Lunala_ , dumbass!" The Pokémon in question cocked its head to one side, intrigued. "It's coming— the light-eater, the one she wouldn't shut up about—"

There was a violent lurch, one he felt with his ears and eyes and at the same time inside his head.

"Sir!" yelled the lady alien. "Sir, the Blinding One—"

 _Uh-oh_ , said a voice in his brain— not one of his own demons but a legendary, speaking through whatsitcalled. ESPN, or something. It sounded like— god, _fuck_ , it sounded like a little girl. _I think maybe I should try to close it. From what I have heard you say about Grandmother, I don't want to meet her just yet_.

" _Grandmother_?" said Gladion's kid sister.

The world shook again, and he heard the scream, just behind him.

“T-t-too late, kid, it's too f-fucking lat-t-t-t—”

And then there was merciful silence.

* * * * * December 30th * * * * *

The ceiling was so bright and white that he knew where he was immediately. There was only one place in the world that was that disgustingly bright.

He tried to move, wiggling his elbows to try and prop himself up; but a firm hand slammed in his chest and pushed him back down.

Furious golden eyes met his. "Guzma Roeland Mahelona," hissed Plumes. "Don't. You. Fucking. _Move_."

"Wha—" His throat was suddenly pinched and parched, his tongue sandpaper in his mouth. "Plumes—"

 _"_ You absolute fucking _jerkwad!"_

The screech was inhumanly loud, or maybe that was just him.

 _"_ You followed that _megalomaniac abusive-ass bitch_ into fucking _space!_ "

Guzma breathed out a sigh, closing his eyes.

"Fuck you very much for falling for her bullshit! Fuck you for leaving without a goddamn _word!_ Fuck you for leaving me to take care of the kids all by myself for a month! Fuck you for making me deal with _the fucking Foxes_ , all by myself!"

It was strange, possibly a bit fucked-up, but— he'd missed this. He'd missed the sound of her voice.

 _"Fuck you!"_ she screamed again. "Once you aren't in danger of dying, your ass is _toast_. I'm going to murder you, bring you back to life like the fucking Tapu, and murder you again! Don't you _ever_ goddamn do that to me again! _Don't you EVER leave me like that!"_

"Plumes," he managed, even though the S at the end scratched his throat and tongue and he had to cough.

"Don't you interrupt me, I'm not done yelling at you yet! You're a piece of shit, you know that? The second you were gone the Foxes decided that _my goddamn house_ was fair game. We had to fucking evacuate! Kohaku, who you knew was batshit crazy and kept around anyway, stole _your_ housekeys and handed them over to Tomasio. _Fucking! Tomasio!"_

His heart sank a little bit. "Plumes, I'm not askin' you to—"

"You better not ask me anything, you piece of shit! It's lucky that Trinh and Uilani heard him giggling over the line about something, the creepy fucker, and came to warn me right away that Ko had something up his fucking sleeve. It's lucky that Tomasio decided to walk right in during breakfast, because that meant Liyah was with all of us and not in her room by herself. And it's real goddamn lucky that I was carrying, because he had a gun and he was going to kill me to get to her, if I hadn't gotten to him first!"

Guzma felt his eye twitch, and forced himself to unclench his fists. Tomasio, back in his house. Well, Plumes' house really, but— still. They'd made him leave for a _reason_.

"D'you kill 'im?" he said wearily.

_"Did I kill him, he asks me!"_

Here was the part that he was less fond of— now that the rage had blown off the top, the biting sarcasm followed. Plumes was smart, she had educated parents and a college degree of her own, and she used words and fought nasty, fought dirty. Guzma on the other hand— well, he'd finished high school. Hadn't really done much else. He wasn't all that bright to begin with, but getting clonked on the head a few too many times had probably not helped him any.

"Of _course_ I fucking killed him, asshole! And that means I fired a shot in my own goddamn house, and killed one of my own goddamn kids. And of course Kohaku tells Van straight off and I wanted to kill him too, oh I _wanted_ to, but there was no fucking _time_. I got the rest of them the hell out of there, got them on every Ride Pager we've ever scraped up. I had _a hundred fucking kids_ crammed into my goddamn trailer. They were sleeping on the roof until Gladion told us to go to Aether. And while we were getting kids packed and out, Kohaku and Emmett decide they're going to hunt down Rogelio, because they're nasty homophobic little assholes, and they nearly slit his goddamn throat before Molly and Cass found him! He's going to have a permanent fucking scar!"

Guzma felt his throat close. He'd been very careful to hide it from everyone besides Plumes, but he had a soft spot about the size of Mount Lanakila for Rogelio. The kid had shown up eighteen months ago, thin and bruised with hollow eyes; and there was nothing like seeing yourself in someone for growing a stupid fucking soft spot.

He'd been beaten for bullshit reasons by people who were supposed to be taking care of him, too.

Plumes was still ranting. "—been called to help kids with nightmares and panic attacks more goddamn times than I can count anymore! I don't mind it, you know I don't, but it's exhausting! I needed you, _they_ needed you, and you _weren't! Fucking! THERE!"_

The last word was screamed so loudly he wasn't entirely sure that his eardrums hadn't burst, because of the silence that followed. Plumes breathed hard, glaring at him.

Guzma swallowed, which felt like drinking sand, and said the thing he'd wanted to say since about five seconds after walking into the goddamn wormhole.

" 'M sorry."

Her eyes narrowed. " _Sorry_ ," she said, in a clipped voice, "is not going to fucking cut it with me. You have no _idea_ what I've—"

"Plumes, could you get me a glass of water?"

She blinked at him for a few moments, and he could see the immediate reaction of offense at the interruption; but then her eyes flicked down to look at his mouth.

"Yeah," she said shortly, standing up. "Just a second."

"Thanks."

She nodded once, striding over to a door in the wall and slamming it shut behind her.

Guzma supposed that he probably deserved that.

Arceus fuck, the kids.

He'd heard the money before the kids. It wasn't that he _hadn't_ heard the kids— after all, it was in his mind to give them a new roof over their heads with the five million.

 _But you weren't there,_ said a little voice in his head, a little voice that was him after hearing Plumeria. _They've dealt with a leaky roof forever, they could have dealt with it a little longer as long as you were there_.

Plumes came back, with a disgruntled expression on her face; she was trailed by a lady in a pink sweater that Guzma had seen around Aether a few times, as well as a male nurse.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Mahelona," said the lady in the pink sweater, and she gestured toward the nurse. "This is Eric. Will you let him check your wounds and whichever vitals we can't access through the computer? We can give you water when he's finished."

Guzma shrugged. "Sure, whatever," he mumbled, and Eric nodded politely before moving toward the bed and folding down the blanket that had been on his chest.

He was wearing one of those dinky green hospital gowns, which was gross but given the state his clothes had been in when he'd gotten out of the— when he'd gotten out, it made sense to get rid of them.

"What'm I hooked up to?" he asked.

"IV line, heart monitor, blood pressure monitor, and catheter," said Eric briskly.

" _Catheter_? Who the fuck's been touching my dick?"

Eric flushed, the lady in pink snorted, and Plumes sighed loudly and clapped one hand to her forehead.

"Medical professionals, dumbass," she said. "You can have it taken out once you're eating solid foods."

"Which is when?"

"When we've had a brief conversation," said the lady in pink. "Let Eric work, and I'll talk. Just don't think about the catheter."

Guzma eyed her suspiciously. "I've seen you before. Who the fuck are you?"

"My name is Amelia Wicke, and in light of the incompetence and malice of both Lusamine Mohn and Marcus Faba, I am currently the acting head of the Aether Foundation."

Incompetence and malice sounded about right for Faba, who in Guzma's opinion was a complete prick; but it wasn't quite the same for Lusamine. The things she was good at, she could be very good at; and she'd been pretty nice to him.

Well, okay, she hadn't been nice to him. Guzma knew he wasn't bright, but he wasn't a complete dumbass. She'd just been nice _enough_ , and like a fool he'd fallen for it.

"'Kay," he said finally, still studying Wicke. "What do you want with me?"

"I need to know what happened to you in Ultra Space."

His heart turned to stone. "No," he said, and laid back to stare straight up at the ceiling.

"Mr. Mahelona—"

"Just Guzma," he interrupted her, still staring at the ceiling. "Mr. Mahelona is my asshat dad."

"Guzma, then," said Wicke. "It's important."

" _No_."

"G, don't be a fucking prick," hissed Plumes.

And it was this, for some reason, that made him snap.

"NO!" he bellowed, sitting bolt upright in bed; his entire chest protested by forcing a weak gasp out of his mouth, but he ignored it. Eric squeaked, jumping backwards. "I SAID I DON'T WANT TO FUCKING TALK ABOUT IT, OKAY? IT WAS BULLSHIT AND I WANTED TO GO BACK THE SECOND I GOT THERE AND IT WAS JUST A FUCKING TWO OR THREE WEEKS OR WHATEVER OF ABSOLUTE FUCKING BULLSHIT! I'M NOT FUCKING TALKING ABOUT IT!"

"Guzma," said Wicke. Her voice had gone very quiet. "I already know that it must have been difficult for you. Gladion, Lillie, and Moon have already told me about their experiences with Nihilego. I don't need to know how you felt, or the specifics of what the Nihilego made you do or say. I need to know what Lusamine did and said."

"NO!" he screamed. "I ALREADY SAID NO, FUCK YOU! I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT THAT— I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT HER TO YOU!"

_"You can't tell me anything about her I don't already know!"_

Wicke didn't have a naturally loud voice, but it was sharp and clear and it cut through the haze in his head.

"I already know who and what she is," she said, when he fell silent. "She is abusive, manipulative, and deluded. She drags other people into her own messes, which I inevitably am made to clean up. Guzma, _I know_."

"No, you fucking don't," he said, and the only reason it wasn't a shout was because his throat was beginning to burn. "You don't know shit."

"She was kind to you."

And now his eyes burned, with his throat.

"She told you that you were needed, that you were valued. She told you that you were important. That you were the only person who could help."

"F-fuck _off."_

"And then," she continued, relentlessly, "the second she didn't need you anymore— the very second she decided you couldn't help her with whatever it was she wanted, she turned it all around. She told you that you were worthless and stupid. She told you that you were _nothing_."

He could still hear the silvery, tinkling laughter in his mind. Could still hear that gratingly sweet voice.

_Did you really think I had any use for you other than to keep me from getting hurt? Now that I know they won't hurt me, I don't need you anymore... but they do. They're hungry, and they can taste your fear._

_You're nothing but food, Guzma. Just food._

He looked at Wicke, and he saw that she had tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Guzma," she said softly. "You shouldn't have had to go through that. I'm so sorry."

For a few moments he was confused. Why was she crying? Then he realized— he'd been talking out loud. He'd said what _she_ had told him, out loud.

Plumes was staring at him, and the second their eyes met hers widened. "No," she said, shaking her head. "No, G, she _didn't._ She didn't say that."

Guzma swallowed and looked away. "Well, yeah," he mumbled. "That's— that's pretty much it. Fuckin' hellyfish didn't help, either."

"Hellyfish?" said Wicke, raising an eyebrow.

"Like jellyfish," he explained. "Except it's hell."

Wicke regarded him for a few moments. "Do you get along with Moon Hawkins?" she said. "That sounds like something she would say."

"She's all right."

"He thinks she's funny, but doesn't want to admit it," said Plumes.

Guzma rolled his eyes. "Sure, whatever," he muttered, lying back down.

For a few moments, Wicke didn't say anything. "All right," she said, after a few moments. "We're going to need to hold a briefing meeting shortly, but would you be willing to mention what happened to you? I wouldn't require any detail."

Guzma shrugged. "Sure, whatever." It was easier this way. It was easier to just— to let go. To not care.

If he didn't give a fuck, nothing would be able to hurt him.

* * * * * March 2nd * * * * *

With some time and perspective and most importantly therapy, Guzma decided that perhaps Ultra Space had not been the worst time in his life.

It was entirely possible that perhaps the worst time in his life was when fucking _Van_ and his alter ego and a bunch of out-of-town assholes landed on Aether when he was taking a smoke break out in the garden. By the time he started to go running back, it was chaos and bullshit and he knew he couldn't get caught, because the kids were _definitely_ going to get caught. A hundred teenagers couldn't all find perfect hiding spots.

God, he hoped they didn't get Al. The other kids would do okay, but Van had always been incredibly derisive of Al being, well, _Al_. Al hadn't changed his name or nothing, because apparently the name Almas was gender neutral, but used more commonly for girls (" 'cause it means _diamond_ , and apparently only _girls_ like sparkly pretty shit," said Al, rolling his eyes). But Van was an asshole about it, and therefore Guzma would be damned if Almas ever so much as _sneezed_ in the same room as one of the Foxes who were always and forever going to misgender him, just because they goddamn could. Fucking assholes.

There was an added bonus, if Al stayed free: the kid was a dirty fighter. Even after a few months of what Jer and Moonie jokingly called "The Good Chemical Soup" (they'd had him on Plumes' health insurance for ages, but it hadn't covered much; and apparently Wicke had arranged for some under-the-table stuff, the kind where they were purposefully not talking to the kid's parents about it), he was still tiny as fuck for a boy, and he could climb people and cling like a Shellder, and he wasn't afraid to bite and scratch and hit the soft, squishy bits of someone's body.

Okay, Cassie might also have been an asset, being an entire-ass ninja and a mean shot and all that. But Al was pretty damn good, and he was quiet and sneaky. Guzma had a soft spot for Rogelio, but Al had given him another one because no kid learned to be that sneaky unless they had a _reason_. Al's birth family, by all accounts, were pretty goddamn good reasons.

He hoped that someone out there had _not_ come to the fucking media conference, because being a one-man rescue team was not going to go all that well.

* * * * * (at some point after March 2nd) * * * * *

If he had ever, just once, thought to do a quick internet search on Team Rocket, he might have known that Van's creepy alter ego guy— who he'd thought was like a brother, maybe even a twin— was actually the one and only _Giovanni_. Because that? That was the kind of thing he'd actually have gone straight to Nanu for. That was some Interpol shit, and he could have just sat back and let the feds take care of everything and the Foxes might even have died out all by themselves.

Though before Moon had come to Po Town, back in November, it would probably have put _Barbara_ in charge. Van was evil, and he was a mean sonuvabitch; but at least he had the decency to be direct about it. Barbara was all kinds of fucked up on a level that went back to Foxglove.

And now that he thought about it, he kind of owed Moon one, for getting rid of Barbara. (He knew it was Cassie who'd made the actual shot, but she never would have had the opportunity without Moon.) It had probably been a factor in Plumes being able to get all the kids out of Po Town _alive_.

* * * * * later on March 2nd * * * * *

He watched, enthralled, as Lysandre called _a fucking legendary death bird_ out in the ballroom. He watched, horrified, as Moon Hawkins swallowed and took a step forward, her shaking hand going to her belt as her face settled into something hauntingly resolute. He watched, relieved, as the ceiling crashed open and three more legendaries and a little blur of smoke decisively ended the fight for both Yveltal and Lysandre.

He watched as Plumes herded all the kids out of the door. He watched as Rogelio and Raquel helped carry a nearly unconscious Molly, her face and shirt covered in dried blood.

He watched as Moon left the room, and then as she came back in to dig through the rubble in search of Lysandre.

And then he jumped, when someone began pounding at the sealed door of the audio-visual room with a sledgehammer.

"I think that's our rescue," said Molayne, though his hand went to his belt automatically.

"I should get Rotom back to Moon," said little Soph, nervously glancing at Guzma.

"Kid," said Guzma.

Molayne looked at him sharply, then relaxed.

"U-u-um— yes, sir?"

Guzma eyed him for a few moments, amused. "I'm not gonna bite your head off, kid," he said. "Al likes you, okay? Be good to him. He's been through a lot of shit."

"I know, sir," murmured little Soph. "I'll—" He took a deep breath, and stood a little straighter. "I'll take care of him."

"Let him take care of you, too." Both Molayne's and Soph's eyebrows rose at that, and Guzma explained. "He's a fantastic kid, but he's not innocent, not after the shit he's been through. You're still a sweet kid, so let him keep you sweet."

"Awww," cooed Molayne. "You have a heart in there after all, Guzma."

" _You_ can fuck right off. You and Maleko, you're both interfering busybody know-it-alls. Him, I like." He indicated Sophocles. "You, I don't."

"I haven't actually spoken to you in ten years," said Molayne, tilting his head to one side. "I tried calling, but the number never worked after... after everything happened."

Guzma grunted. "Got a new phone."

"Well, then I can't very well be told I'm a busybody, am I? I haven't been _able_ to contact you." Molayne winked at him, then turned and stood just as the door finally crashed open; it was Plumes, wielding the sledgehammer. She had a slender red scratch on her face and murder in her eyes. "Oh good, rescuers! I'm so glad to see you."

Plumes dropped the sledgehammer, marched into the room, and climbed onto Guzma's chair— she was warm and strong and angry and god, he loved her so much it _hurt_.

" _Okay_!" shouted someone behind them, after a few seconds; the panicked tone told him it was Jeremiah— who was a fucking hypocrite, because he could PDA with Ki-moon all the day long but apparently freaked out if a guy's hand so much as _ventured_ near his girl's ass. "They're, uh, they're busy, let's leave them alone. Come on, Mr. Molayne, you too."

When Plumes finally let him surface for air, he just looked at her for a few moments.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there this time either," he said.

"Don't be stupid," snorted Plumes, "He said he would have killed you if you were there. And then you went on over the fucking karaoke system and I—"

Her breath caught, on something like a hiccup; and her eyes were suspiciously damp.

"It just hit me," she said quietly. "It just hit me, all of a sudden."

"What did?"

"H-how much you love them."

Guzma stared at her, baffled. "Of course I do, Plumes, what do you take me for? I'm not a _complete_ asshole."

 _"That song is a goddamn lullabye that a father sings to his kids!"_ she wailed, and Guzma froze. "I didn't know shit about musical theater, until Molly was saying so when we were coming to get you. She's been high off painkillers ever since we got out but she said that song was a lullabye, and Cass and Jer backed her up, and _you are their fucking father!"_

She buried her head in his shoulder and shook, and he held her and let her cry, because Plumes almost _never_ cried.

"So much for big brother and big sister, then," he said finally. "Who's the oldest of the kids?"

"Oldest in age, or who's been around longest?"

"Either."

"Uh— you know what, G?"

"What?"

"I can't fucking _remember."_

"Oh." He considered this. "I think they call that _mom brain."_

They looked at each other for a few moments— and then Guzma felt his mouth twitch, and then they were both laughing. Plumes was kind of sob-laughing, in a so-tired-that-everything-hurts-and-is-also-hilarious kind of way.

"I can't believe the goddamn fucking nerve of Moon Hawkins," he said finally. "Musical theater, Arceus fucking hell."

"It's Moon. Are you really surprised?"

"Not in the goddamn slightest, but it shouldn't have worked."

Plumeria's mouth quirked. "Some people are just born under a lucky star, I guess."

"Yeah," mumured Guzma. "Something like that."

* * * * * sometime in March— or perhaps April * * * * *

Sometimes, he couldn't sleep because of nightmares. Those didn't happen as often, because of the therapist that turned out to be a much better idea than he'd thought it would be.

But sometimes, he couldn't sleep _because_ of the therapist, and her fucking questions. Sometimes he laid awake in bed with Plumes curled up to his side the way she always did, and he stared at the ceiling into the navy gloom of night and thought about what Dr. Campbell said to him.

_What will you do, after all is said and done? What will you do once the Foxes are gone?_

He thought, after a while, that maybe he'd gone to sleep; but then there was a whisper in his ear. It wasn't like the creepy little Ultra Space hellyfish, and it wasn't like that chirpy fucking Lunala or the black crystal alien or even Tapu Bulu, who he'd heard speak once on a day of nightmares. No, this voice was different: soft, but amused. Knowing.

 _You will survive_ , it told him. _And not only that, you will thrive_.

He _wanted_ to believe it. He wanted to believe it, so goddamn bad.

* * * * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Internalized racism, fucking stupid." —Guzma is the epitome of self-improvement
> 
> "He wasn't getting five milion P's if he didn't mind his P's and Q's, after all." —lowkey I am quite proud of this line
> 
> "ESPN, or something" is shamelessly stolen from Mean Girls. you're welcome
> 
> "It sounded like— god, _fuck,_ it sounded like a little girl." —the leader of Team Skull: CHILD IN DISTRESS, MUST FIX
> 
> OH BOY CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE GUZMERIA RELATIONSHIP DYNAMIC YET BECAUSE WE NEED TO HAVE THAT CONVERSATION.
> 
> So yeah, Guzmeria are not having a healthy relationship. They get shit done and they work hard, but they're both stressed out, they don't agree about things, they fight often, they both get verbal about it. They have unhealthy coping mechanisms, which I will be detailing later on. They have trauma from their pasts, some of which you might remember if you've been paying attention. Overall, it's not great, and they are both at fault.
> 
> Thus: Plumeria screaming at Guzma for like three pages was always going to happen, but I don't condone her behavior AT ALL.
> 
> listen everyone loves Rogelio I don't make the rules
> 
> oh you thought Plumeria could shout? welcome to Guzma shouting
> 
> Wicke Does Not Accept Your Bullshit
> 
> and once again, Lusamine is the worst. just literally the worst.
> 
> I'm keeping "hellyfish" forever, thank you
> 
> "It was easier this way. It was easier to just— to let go. To not care. If he didn't give a fuck, nothing would be able to hurt him." —Depression (TM)
> 
> whoops here's some Almas backstory because Guzma's brain automatically goes "shit, which kids are going to be worst affected by this"
> 
>  _"You_ can fuck right off. You and Maleko, you're both interfering busybody know-it-alls." —yes, we will be getting more of the Very Good Molayne, Kukui, And Guzma Backstory
> 
> "Some people are just born under a lucky star, I guess." "Yeah," mumured Guzma. "Something like that." —I was really, REALLY tempted to modify the Very Good A:TLA line from Zuko about Azula: "My father says my sister was born lucky; he says I was lucky to be born." I ended up not doing that, but that is the energy with which this line was written.


	4. INTERLUDE IV: Plumeria rubra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which she's got more issues than he does, and that's saying something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over fourteen million _plumeria rubra_ flowers were sold in Hawaii in 2005, for use in leis. They are also known as frangipani.
> 
> CTN Discord: https://discord.gg/CPR2rzPv  
> (I also see DMs on my BTS stan tumblr account (jooniepertree.tumblr.com) so u can message me there as well as on discord
> 
> Content Warning: mention of past abusive behavior, allusions to traumatic situations

* * * * * mid-January * * * * *

The shrink's name was Dr. Walsh, and she was a little old lady. Plumeria eyed her dubiously, but this was what Amelia wanted.

G slouched on the sofa, arms crossed over his chest. He didn't seem uncomfortable yet, but Plumeria was beginning to be.

"All right," said Dr. Walsh, after a few more scrawls on the clipboard. "I was just writing down my initial observations and impressions."

Plumeria raised an eyebrow at her. "Care to share with the class?"

Dr. Walsh merely smiled. "I don't think that would be beneficial for either of you at this time. I'd like to ask you both some questions."

"Sure, go ahead." Plumeria waved one hand at her.

"How long have you been together?"

"About five and a half years."

She nodded, writing something down. "What are your jobs?"

"From a legal point of view, we're both unemployed. But I'm a certified freelance tattoo artist and piercer, and we're also basically full-time foster parents."

Another nod. "And from a less legal point of view?"

"You're not allowed to snitch, right?" said G abruptly.

"No, I am not. Ms. Wicke pays me very well not to snitch."

"I'm a gang leader, a drug runner, and a weapons dealer."

"Former," corrected Plumeria. "To the second two, anyway."

"Yeah, former."

Dr. Walsh nodded a third time, but Plumeria noticed she didn't write that down; good. Paper trails sucked major ass, and she didn't want to bust into this lady's office to remove them. "That's good to know. Why are you here today?"

"Because Wicke told us we had to be," said G, glaring out of the window.

Dr. Walsh raised one eyebrow at him, then looked at Plumeria. "Would you agree with that?"

"More or less."

"Why do you think she told you you had to be here?"

"Because we got into a screaming match in front of the kids."

"Which kids?"

G looked at her as though she were stupid. "All of them."

"For a minute," said Dr. Walsh, "let's assume that I know literally nothing about you. How many kids?"

"A little less than a hundred," said Plumeria. "They're Team Skull. They're our kids."

"Oh, I see." She wrote something else down. "Why do you call them your kids?"

"They're _ours_ ," said Plumeria. She was beginning to feel uncomfortable. "We take care of them. We feed them, we give them a place to stay."

"Currently," pointed out Dr. Walsh, "the care, feeding and shelter of these children is being provided by the Aether Foundation. Does that mean that they belong to the Aether Foundation?"

"Fuck, no," said G.

"Then what makes them belong to you?"

Plumeria sighed. "We love them," she said irritably. "We both had fucked-up pasts and we have a soft spot for kids who grew up like us."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you have a soft spot for kids who grew up like you?"

"Because it was shitty!" snapped G, sitting upright. "Arceus fuck, lady, you ask the dumbest questions!"

She cocked her head. "Why does it matter to you whether they have a bad experience growing up?"

"Because nobody should have to live like that, it's bullshit! Kids deserve parents who love them and don't fuck up and don't beat them with fucking _golf clubs!"_

G had stood up, and he was breathing hard. Plumeria reached up and snagged his wrist, pulling lightly; he sat down and folded into himself again.

Dr. Walsh watched them, with sharp, curious eyes. "Guzma," she said softly.

"What?" he snarled.

"Do you believe you are a good person?"

It was as though time had stopped. G stared at her, his mouth falling open; he turned to look at Plumeria, eyes begging for help.

" _No_." It was the first time Dr. Walsh's voice had risen, and it was only very slight. "I addressed that question to _you_ , Guzma. Plumeria should not have to answer questions that I ask you. That isn't fair to her. Guzma, do you believe you are a good person?"

"God, no," he mumbled.

"But taking care of those children is a good thing to do. Do you understand that?"

He shrugged, looking away. "'S better than nothing," he mumbled.

For a few moments, Dr. Walsh didn't say anything; but then she turned to Plumeria.

"Plumeria," she said steadily. "Do you believe you are a good person?"

"I'm a much, _much_ fucking worse person than he is."

G lifted his head, frowning at her. "Bullshit."

"You'll have the chance to address that later, Guzma. Please don't interrupt right now." Dr. Walsh studied Plumeria for a few moments. "Plumeria, do you believe Guzma is a good person?"

"I don't think he's a _nice_ person," said Plumeria, allowing herself a snort. "But yeah, I do think he's a good person."

G's jaw dropped, and his eyes grew round.

"Why do you think he is a good person?"

Plumeria sighed. "You're really gonna make me do this in front of him, huh," she murmured.

"I think he probably deserves to know this."

Yeah, okay. That was fair.

"G..." Plumeria took a breath, looking down at her lap. "G _cares_. He could look at a teenager who ran away from home and say, _well, fuck, it sucks to be you but that isn't my problem_. But he doesn't. He isn't nice, and he's not going to sugar-coat anything, but he would give the shirt off his back to someone who needed it."

She paused, looking at Dr. Walsh; but the woman merely smiled. "Keep going."

"G's willing to learn," said Plumeria. "Like, a few years back, we had this kid come in with a Pokémon that didn't have a gender. But the kid insisted the Pokémon was a girl. I already knew about using the right pronouns and shit, because one of my friends growing up was trans."

"Becky, right?" said G.

"Yeah, Becky. Really nice girl. She got the fuck out of Po Town, she's married, they've got a Rockruff, and they're adopting twins. But that's not the point. G didn't get it at first. He looked at this kid's Pokémon and he was like, _it doesn't have a gender, but sure if you want me to pretend it's a girl I can do that_. And it wasn't super important to him because it's a Pokémon. But then, about... oh, ten months ago, now? We had three kids come in, and at first we thought, two boys and a girl. But the one we thought was a girl, he said, _no, I'm a boy. I've got a vagina, but I'm a boy. And I ran away because my mom was going to try and beat it out of me, and the last time she tried that she nearly killed me so I ran away, and if you try to say I'm a girl I'll run away from you too_. And I already got that, so I said, 'sure, you're obviously a boy, welcome to Team Skull.' This one—" She jerked her thumb at G. "He didn't get it. He was confused. But he saw how freaked out and uncomfortable Al got when anybody treated him like a girl, or used the wrong pronouns. So he started doing research, all on his own. I had no idea he was doing it until he called a meeting about a month after that and told everyone that Al was a boy, and anybody who implied otherwise was going to be in huge trouble and get huge amounts of chores and scut work. So he didn't understand it at first, and he made some mistakes, but then he realized he was wrong and he decided he had to fix it, and he did his research and made it clear that he would back Al up. And that really meant a lot to Al."

G had gone steadily redder and redder through her entire speech, and at this he reached up and yanked his hood up over his head. "It was nothin'," he mumbled, staring at his lap. "Least I could've done. Just— just wanted him to stop _flinching_ whenever I walked by. Even I know that's fucked up."

Dr. Walsh smiled. "Guzma," she said steadily, "do you understand that very few people would have done what you did, in that scenario?"

"Obviously, because people are fuckin' twats."

Plumeria glared at him. " _Gendered language_."

"That certainly isn't the phrasing I would use," Dr. Walsh said delicately, "but it's true that many people are unwilling to admit to their mistakes and try to change. So, let me ask you the same question. Do you think Plumeria is a good person?"

"Plumes is the best person I know," said G, and Plumeria turned to stare at him incredulously but his face was— god, he was actually serious?

What the _fuck_.

"Why do you think she is a good person?"

"She's more patient than me," said G. "I'm not real easy for the kids to live with. Especially the Skulls, because most of them are just as fucked in the head as we are. Some of them are _more_ fucked in the head than us. I'm a rude-ass loudmouth with a bad temper. The kids know they should talk to Plumes when they need stuff, because she'll make sure they get it. I just get annoyed and tell them to go away. And she's smarter than me, too. You heard all that stuff she said about gender and shit. I still don't really get it, but if Al says he's a boy then he's a boy, and I don't want any of the other kids to fuckin' fight about it. There's more important shit to worry about. And Plumes takes care of a lot of that important shit. She does all the taxes. She has health insurance, and she puts the high risk kids on her health insurance so she can get them what they need. We have to pay an assload in premiums or whatever, but she never complains. Money gets pretty tight, but she just makes do with what we have and makes sure that none of the kids know when we're badly off."

Plumeria swallowed. She hadn't cried since after she'd blown up at G the other day, and even then she'd made herself hold it back until she could get somewhere by herself; but she could feel a lump rising in her throat, and something stinging in her eyes.

"Why," said Dr. Walsh softly, "do you think that neither of you knew these things that you thought about each other?"

Honestly, it was a really good question. Plumeria shrugged. "Well, we didn't say it until just now."

"And why is that?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but found that there wasn't really a good reason.

"I'm not good at talking about shit like that," said G. "You know— emotional shit." His lip curled slightly, and Plumeria could tell he wanted to say something a little more demeaning about it.

"It's perfectly normal, especially for men, to feel a little uncomfortable when discussing emotions— especially strong emotions relating to one's partner," Dr. Walsh assured him. "But frankly, Guzma, you're already doing better than about seventy-five percent of the men who come in here. Most of them can't even acknowledge that they are uncomfortable talking about their emotions. It is largely not their fault— men are generally conditioned to believe that talking about emotions is unmanly, or that it makes them weak. You may have some of the same hang-ups, even if you don't realize it."

G nodded stiffly. "I see another shrink," he said curtly. "On my own. Wicke made me after I came back from— uh, from some really weird shit, that I went through. Also on my own."

"Amelia gave me Dr. Campbell's contact information," said Dr. Walsh mildly, and G relaxed marginally. "If you think it would be beneficial for us to compare notes, we can do that; but it is up to you, as you are our patient and you have final say."

"Um— you can do that. If it makes things easier. I don't really give a fuck." G cleared his throat. "Um, anyway, my point is, I already know some shit. About men and emotions and whatever, because I talked about it with Dr. C. My dad kind of fucked me up, is the short story. But I'm working on it."

Dr. Walsh nodded, and her eyes flicked to Plumeria. "What about you, Plumeria? Would you say that you have difficulty discussing emotions?"

"Kind of, yeah," muttered Plumeria.

"Do you see a therapist?"

"Don't really have the time."

"I can't make you do anything, of course." Dr. Walsh's voice was gentle. "But I recommend that you begin searching for one. When a relationship is having problems, it's best to ensure that both parties are having their psychological health needs met."

"Why?" said Plumeria caustically. "G's seeing someone for his shit, and it helps, but we've still got problems. So we're here."

Dr. Walsh raised an eyebrow. "Do you think you are exempt from having personal issues?"

"No, but I don't have any like _that."_

G snorted.

"Shut up," snapped Plumeria.

"Please don't speak that way to him," said Dr. Walsh, frowning. "And Guzma, that was unnecessary." She took a deep breath. "Plumeria, think back to the point in time when Guzma's primary work was illegal. Was the division of labor such that you were solely in charge of caring for the rest of Team Skull, and Guzma was solely in charge of the drugs and weapons?"

"No. As a matter of fact, I took care of drugs and weapons nearly as often as he did. A lot of the care you can delegate, right? They're teenagers or they're in their early twenties, and they didn't need us to wipe their asses or make them food. But sometimes they needed help with other shit, and both of us did that too."

"Amelia suggested," said Dr. Walsh, nodding, "that the division of labor between the two of you was mostly fair, though in the way of most heterosexual relationships the emotional labor skewed toward Plumeria and the physical labor skewed toward Guzma."

"Why was she telling you about us?"

"She didn't say much, but I can read between the lines. Were either of us wrong?"

Plumeria scowled. "No."

"There you go. Plumeria, how often did you engage in the riskier activities of Guzma's employment?"

"Like doing a drug run or moving weapons?" Plumeria considered. "Um— pretty often. Usually we'd send one of the tougher kids, because G and I are both known outside Po Town and most of the Skulls aren't recognizable out of uniform. But if it was delicate, it was about a fifty-fifty split between the two of us. Maybe like, fifty-five forty-five."

"How often did the riskier activities involve physical altercations or violence?"

"Pretty often." That was just life, when you worked with a bunch of nutjobs like the Foxes.

"How did those physical altercations or violence make you feel?"

"Well, it wasn't exactly a fucking picnic," said Plumeria, instantly irritated by the question.

"Do you think about them often?"

"I try not to."

"Does trying not to think about these incidents affect your everyday life?"

A lump rose to Plumeria's throat. "U-um," she managed, and winced when her voice cracked. "I mean, I guess. A little."

"That is what therapy is for," said Dr. Walsh softly. "When your emotions, emotional responses, or memories are getting in the way of being able to live your life, it is perfectly natural to see a therapist to get those things sorted out. Plumeria, I would be very surprised if you did not benefit by seeing a therapist. And I think that both you and Guzma will find it easier to do what I ask of you in this room, if you are also seeing private therapists."

* * * * * January 31st * * * * *

**COURT TRANSCRIPT: ALOLA v. MAHELONA**

**PLAINTIFF: ALOLA DEPT. OF STATE v. DEFENDANT: GUZMA MAHELONA**

The above-entitled matter came on for oral argument before **Alolan Justice Ekewaka C. Kekoa** at 10:00 am on January 31, 20XX.

**APPEARANCES** :

 **Mitchell D. Braxton, Esq** , District Attorney, Alola Department of Justice, Hau'oli City, on behalf of the plaintiff(s);

 **Amelia E. Wicke** , Aether Paradise, on behalf of the defendant;

**PROCEEDINGS** :

reported by Ian Diarmuth, court reporter

**Justice Kekoa** : At this time the court calls Alola v. Mahelona. Will the parties state their appearance for the record, please.

 **Attorney Braxton** : Good morning, your Honor. The Alola Department of State is represented by myself, Hau'oli City District Attorney Mitchell Braxton.

 **Attorney Wicke** : Good morning, your Honor. Guzma Mahelona appears in person. He is represented by myself— Amelia Wicke, private attorney.

 **Justice Kekoa** : Very good. Are there any issues to be presented before the jurors are brought in?

 **Attorney Wicke:** I have one issue with the language of the opening instructions, your Honor. This trial is of course for the crimes that Mr. Mahelona has personally committed, but I wish to request an allowance of the phrase, "committed X crime at the behest of another," in place of "committed X crime."

 **Justice Kekoa** : I see. And the reason for this change in language?

 **Attorney Wicke** : Mr. Mahelona has largely been coerced into the crimes he committed. There is no mistake: he has committed crimes. He admits as much himself. But committing a crime because of blackmail, extortion, or coersion is different from committing a crime out of sheer malice.

 **Attorney Braxton** : He still committed the crimes. Why should we alter the language to prevaricate about that?

 **Attorney Wicke** : It isn't prevarication, it's clarification. Mr. Mahelona would _not_ have committed the vast majority of his crimes if he had not been coerced into doing so, and that should be made clear to the jurors and all witnesses to this trial.

 **Justice Kekoa** : The court acknowledges Mr. Mahelona's coersion, and accepts the change to the opening instructions. In lieu of "committed X crime," the opening instructions will read, "committed X crime at the behest of another. Are there any further issues?

 **Attorney Braxton** : No, your Honor.

 **Attorney Wicke** : No, your Honor.

 **Justice Kekoa**. Very good. Please send in the jury.

Plumeria rolled her eyes at Braxton's whiny tone, but the man was just doing his job. It probably had to suck major balls to go up in court against Wicke.

She was present mostly because G had asked her to be, but Wicke had also asked her to testify, if necessary. And there was a small part of her that was present because Wicke had gotten G fitted for a suit for court and Plumeria had a vested interest in seeing it in action. It was a nice suit— super dark gray, with faint pinstripes. Light gray tie, to match his eyes. And the pants were tailored too, which meant that every time people had to stand up or sit down, she got to check out her boyfriend's ass.

G knew, of course; he shot her a brief, nervous smile as he sat back down once the jury had settled in.

The main point of the trial was that Wicke was trying to put legal ramifications off until after the Foxes were taken care of. It would be a lot easier, and safer, to sort out what was Guzma's fault and what could be lain at the feet of the Foxes once there wasn't any risk of revenge. The problem was that the Alolan government was kind of offended at the insinuation that the Foxes were doing shit that broke their agreement, which they'd never done before— except they _had_ , they just hadn't been caught. G wasn't narcing so much as he was trying to get out of the thing as unfucked as he possibly could; but the feds didn't like being wrong and they wanted an easy scapegoat.

Plumeria loved G, but he made a very damn easy scapegoat.

It kind of dragged on at the beginning. G had sort of tried to write everything down, kind of lay out a timeline of the last eight years or so; but there were some factors that made timelining kind of difficult— namely, G's dyslexia, which made it hard to write things down at all; and there were some memory issues due to both physical trauma (getting hit in the head with a five-iron by your dad would probably shake a few things loose) and G's pre-therapy coping mechanisms, booze and weed.

There were also some issues with the facts that Plumeria was still going to be counted as a biased witness, no matter how Wicke introduced her. A few of the Skulls were around— only adults, because juvenile witnesses were a whole complex ball game that nobody wanted to play, except maybe that asshole Braxton. Cassie, Molly, and Raquel were sitting with Plumeria, and Gladion was in the row behind them. He'd asked them not to tell Moon that he was here today, and they'd agreed.

But Skulls would also be biased witnesses. In fact, the only person who probably wouldn't be a biased witness was that bitch, Lusamine. Plumeria didn't like the word _bitch_ because it pejoratized femininity, but after hearing about what she suspected was just the tip of the iceberg when Lillie and Gladion were talking about some of the shit their mom put them through in Ultra Space, she couldn't really help but agree that it was really the only word to describe her.

Though Guzma, in a very bitter mood one night, had said, "She's actually much _worse_ than a bitch, but she ain't warm enough or deep enough to be a cu—"

"Finish that and I'll knee you in the balls."

So— perhaps there _was_ a better word, but Plumeria wasn't about to go there.

Braxton was finishing his opening statement, which was pretty much a bunch of bullshit about how Alola deserved to have justice, and letting Guzma go unpunished for even a second longer was the moral equivalent of throwing a Pichu in a blender, or something. Wicke looked slightly irritated, and glancing back at Gladion showed him to be staring at Braxton as though he'd just pulled off his pants and shit on the courtroom floor.

"The nerve of this goddamn man," said Raquel under her breath. "He's dumber than _Emmett_ , and that's saying something."

"Right now, that feels like an insult to Emmett," said Cassie quietly, and— right, yes. Emmett and Jack were currently sort of off-limits as jokes, given what had happened to them over the weekend.

Given what had happened to Kohaku, over the weekend.

It wasn't the first death in Team Skull, not by a long shot. There had been ten deaths, and she remembered every one. Mostly because they were all stupid deaths. The kids were young and they were _not_ all right, as the saying went (or rather didn't); and they deserved better than abusive families or school bullies or drugs or mental health issues or whatever the fuck had driven them to self-destruct so spectacularly. And that death count included one who had died at her own hands.

She and Guzma tried, but they could only do so much. There were only so many kids who could be saved. Who would let themselves be saved.

"Ms. Wicke, you have the floor for your opening statement," said the judge, recalling Plumeria's attention.

Wicke stood, turning to face the jury. "The issue upon which you decide, jurors of Alola, is not whether Guzma Mahelona is to be held accountable for the crimes he has committed," she said clearly. "The question is this: who is responsible for these crimes? Yes, someone must atone. That is clear, and that is just. But consider, if you will, the circumstances surrounding the crimes committed. Mr. Mahelona was a young Trainer— still on his island challenge, even. He spent a few years in his youth as part of an organization that used to be held in great esteem— an organization that did many good things for Alola. Suddenly, the man who was in charge of that organization was revealed to be a criminal, and a blasphemer. Suddenly, Mr. Mahelona's life changed. Suddenly, the island challenge wasn't quite as important as the other children, teenagers and young Trainers of that organization. He saw that they, like himself, were beginning to falter. Where should they turn, now that it is shown that their leader was not worthy of their trust? What should they do? Young minds are impressionable, and despite Foxglove's death the Foxes remained at large, ready and willing to induct teenage members.

"In that situation— Mr. Mahelona, a young Trainer like any other, took on a burden. A burden that was unnecessary, a burden that was selfless— a burden that was _kind_. He stepped into place between those children and the Foxes. He was the shield that prevented evil from touching them. He didn't wholly succeed, because he was only one young person against many older, more charismatic, more wicked people. But for the most part— he provided the marginalized youth of Alola with somewhere safe. He faced the ugliness, and the evil, so that other youth could take steps away from it in safety.

"Mr. Braxton wishes to see Guzma Mahelona suffer, because he chose to give up an island challenge to protect children from the Foxes. That isn't how Mr. Braxton would phrase it, of course; and there is no denying that in shielding the youth of Alola, Mr. Mahelona did some reprehensible things. And Mr. Mahelona himself has agreed that he should make recompense to Alola for those things.

"Jurors of Alola, what I ask you to consider is this: the Foxes are still at large. There are children in Po Town even now, children who have been fooled into believing they are safer with some of the worst criminals that mankind has to offer. They know Guzma Mahelona, and they know he does not mean them harm. They cannot say the same of either the Foxes, or of officers of the law. If Mr. Mahelona goes to prison now, he cannot shield those children from further evil. But if his sentence is delayed— if he is permitted to wait for some time— then those children have a chance. Team Skull, whose names have been maligned these ten years thanks to the actions of Foxglove, will have the chance to show us who they truly are.

"I have lived in the same house as the vast majority of Team Skull, as well as Guzma Mahelona, for just under two months. By now, I understand these children. They are loud and rebellious, yes; but you might equally say that they chafe under excessive rules and abusive authorities. They are bright and cheerful and colorful; they are artists, musicians, dancers, singers, and creators. They are children who could not find a way to carry on in their own homes, and so fled to find a place of refuge and acceptance. Team Skull, you see, does not discriminate. Anyone over the age of fifteen or so who seeks sanctuary amongst the Skulls is granted it. A fifteen-year-old is old enough to know when their living situation is untenable.

"Without Guzma Mahelona, the energy of these children is driven to far, far worse places. Yes, a few of them have committed minor crimes; and yes, it is fairly annoying to have to clean up graffiti in public areas. But consider this: without Guzma Mahelona, they could have been doing so much worse. Here is a publicly available statistic: of the three hundred and forty-seven juvenile offenses on record in Alola over the last year, only thirty-one of them are known to be committed by members of Team Skull or by anyone affiliated with Team Skull. That's less than ten percent."

"I ask you, jurors of Alola, not to say that Guzma Mahelona should not be punished for the wrongs he has committed at all. I ask you to say— _not yet_. Not until the Foxes are no longer a threat to the children of Alola."

* * * * * later, that same day * * * * *

**chat: g &p**

**g** : for a damn minute there i thought they were gonna send me to the clink

 **p** : I had faith in you

 **g** : you had faith in my ass in this goddamn monkey suit.

 **p** : To be fair, it's a pretty nice ass

 **g** : dont sext me until were both at home

 **g** : were both in a small boat with wicke n the kids

 **g** : cant do anything about it

 **p** : Maybe that's the point

 **g** : goddamnit

 **g** : why are you so

 **p** : Did you send the message before you finished writing it

 **g** : no

 **g** : i just dont have the fuckin words for you sometimes, woman

 **p** : In a good way or a bad way?

 **g** : yes

 **p** : Why are you the worst

 **g** : you like it

 **p** : Yeah, I really fucking do.

* * * * * March 2nd * * * * *

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

The soft padding of Lysandre's shoes (expensive, designer) as he paced around the kids was maddening.

Plumeria remained still and quiet. She watched the kids, because some of them needed watching. Jer and Moonie, for instance— they were both twitchy, not in the least because they'd gotten Al out into the vents and had been subsequently punished for it. Jer had a bruise on his cheekbone, and red eyes that indicated tears; Moonie's expression was blankly sullen, and his lip was ever so slightly puffy.

A few of the others had mouthed off, too. Raquel had given lip and been slapped; so had Rogelio. But Molly was the worst by far. Her nose had been broken, and she'd been steadily and slowly dripping blood for what had to be nearly three hours at this point. She was beginning to get a little pale.

Plumeria slowly raised her hand, ignoring the multiple guns that turned to point at her the second she moved.

"What do you want," said Lysandre, without looking at her.

"Can I offer some medical advice to one of my kids without getting fucking shot?" said Plumeria tartly.

He turned to look at her, brows raised. "And what advice is that?"

"Molly."

Molly looked up, eyes red. Her mouth and nose and shirt were a fucking mess; she had to be miserable right now. "Yeah?"

"Tilt your head back," said Plumeria quietly. "Maybe lie down, if you're getting dizzy."

She took a deep breath, and tears filled her eyes. "It _hurts_ ," she whispered.

Rage and pain swelled, but Plumeria forced them down and turned to look at Lysandre. "Can I help her?"

His eyes narrowed. "I don't trust you not to try something."

Plumeria gritted her teeth. "The only thing I'm going to try," she said, making a Herculean effort to keep the anger out of her voice, "is to make her _goddamn broken nose stop bleeding_."

"It will stop on its own eventually."

"When she faints of blood loss, sure! Look at her fucking shirt!"

Lysandre offered Molly a disdainful glance. "No," he said, and turned away.

" _Please_." The word burst from her lips, bitter as brine. "Please— I just want to help her. Nothing more."

There was a long pause. Lysandre hadn't started walking again, which was a good sign.

"Fine. You will have guns on you the entire time. Don't try anything stupid."

Plumeria crawled over to Molly, cradling the back of her head. Molly flinched away, a sob ripping from her mouth. "Hey, now. Hey, shhh. You've gotta be strong for me, okay?"

"It hurts," she said again. A fat tear rolled down her cheek. "Plumeria, it hurts so _bad_."

Something ugly and enraged stirred within her. This, she decided, was the real reason that G was a better person than her. G got mad, and then he got over it. He was loud and scary, sure; but he blew it off pretty damn quick.

But Plumeria held onto rage. It grew cold and vile, creeping through her veins. The grudges she bore lasted _years_ , sometimes.

"I can't make it feel better," said Plumeria softly. "But here— lie down, okay? On your side— if you fall asleep, I don't want you to choke on your own blood."

She carefully helped Molly curl into a ball. "Here, you can just face Rogelio and the kids, okay? You can see them from here, and they can see you. You're gonna be okay, kid. I've got you. I won't let anything bad happen to you."

It was a little grody, but she took off her jacket and began carefully cleaning up blood, dabbing at Molly's chin and neck. Molly whimpered every time her nose was jostled, and Plumeria apologized every time.

"That's enough," said Lysandre, after a few minutes of this. "Back to where you were."

Plumeria turned and looked him directly in the eye. There was nothing in his eyes— just cold, blank emptiness.

" _J'espère que tu meurs_ ," she said, in the language they both shared. Her Kalosian was rusty, but she knew enough to get by.

His mouth curled up ever so slightly. " _Je me fiche de ce que vous espérez_."

" _Je vais rire de vos funérailles et danser sur votre tombe_."

He merely rolled his eyes, turned around, and kept walking. A hand motion had the guards nudging her back to the spot where she had been directed to sit.

This was a man who was, perhaps, nearly evil enough to rival Van. Nobody could quite come close to Van; nobody else in the world took the same sort of pleasure, in power and control. Nobody else thought it was funny to break people.

But Lysandre— he didn't take pleasure in power. He simply had standards that were so high that nobody living could attain them; and if you couldn't attain his standards, he didn't give a fuck about you. He cared about as much for human or Pokémon life as Plumeria cared about any random stranger on a given day— a measurement that was not truly definable beyond "less than zero."

And when this man died— yes, _when_ he died, because at this point she knew that if nobody else managed it, she would certainly be there to finish the job— she would, in fact, laugh at his funeral and dance on his grave.

Hell, she would _breakdance_ on his grave. Here lies Lysandre, the biggest fucking dick in the known universe; and she wasn't that great at b-boying but for this man, she would fucking do it. Because fuck him. Fuck him to the ends of the earth and back. Fuck him to fucking _Ultra Space_ , and knowing what that did to G meant that it was not something she wished lightly upon anyone.

* * * * * early-mid March * * * * *

She decided, after the fact, that Moon had managed the thing pretty damn well for a newly-minted Champion. There wasn't much of Lysandre left to bury, and Wicke was more inclined to have him cremated anyway; but Plumeria requested, and received, the urn of ashes in a plain black vase. She borrowed a boombox from Jeremiah, a CD of hip-hop in a language she didn't know from Moonie, and a lighter from G.

And then she took those things outside, to the open courtyard space in front of the mansion; and she set the urn down on top of the boombox, blasted the fucking music, and danced on the concrete until her hands and feet ached.

Because fuck that guy, for making her kids suffer. She hoped, wherever he was, that he was suffering a hundred times worse.

 _He is_.

Plumeria stiffened, looking around; but there was nobody there.

A chill ran, slow and steady, up her spine.

She had heard that voice before.

* * * * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guzma and Plumeria: _get into screaming match in front of Team Skull_  
>  Wicke: go to therapy pls  
> Moon, Gladion, and Lillie off-stage: you're one to talk  
> Wicke: SHUT
> 
> ISN'T IT NICE WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU SAY THE THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT SOMEONE TO THEIR FACE??? in completely unrelated news, I cried while writing this chapter
> 
> Gladion backstory (which you mostly knew about)! More Almas backstory! Guzma being a good fucking ally!!!!
> 
> "Guzma, do you understand that very few people would have done what you did, in that scenario?" "Obviously, because people are fuckin' twats." —well, he ain't wrong
> 
> Guzma's been in therapy. Plumeria... hasn't. This doesn't make him better or her worse; it just means there's a psychological toolbelt imbalance.
> 
> Dr. Walsh: have you considered therapy  
> Plumeria: haha no, but my brain does shit that makes it hard for me to cope with reality  
> Dr. Walsh: ...  
> Dr. Walsh: _have you considered therapy_
> 
> full disclaimer: I have no idea how to write a court transcript lmao
> 
> fun fact: I actually wrote Plumeria's interlude before Guzma's interlude, because I wasn't super decided about what order I should put these interludes. so the dyslexia thing comes from here first. Though, to be perfectly fair: lately, I've been reading a Harry Potter fic series entitled _Of A Linear Circle,_ by ao3 user flamethrower. Highly excellent fic— all of the witty bants, hella worldbuilding, diverse characters!!!! The main ship is a spoiler but under ordinary circumstances I Do Not Like It, except flamethrower did it in a non-problematic way and I was pleasantly surprised!!!! anyway, the point is that Ron has dyslexia and I was like "no that's valid, and also totally my headcanon now." and Guzma and Ron are nothing alike, but like— I can just see it. Guzma's dyslexic. that's just how it is in my head now. end of story.
> 
> Gladion's here because Moon hasn't become the champion at this point in the story; the interludes skip around with time but they pretty much all happen between A Bouquet in Four Parts and Weedkiller. Or during Weedkiller, as you can see.
> 
> "She's actually much worse than a bitch, but she ain't warm enough or deep enough to be a cu—" —credit goes to r/JustNoMIL for this highly vulgar, but hilarious insult. I _really_ don't like that word, especially as an insult; but I do absolutely think that Guzma would use it to describe Lusamine, because... extremely awful people call for extremely awful insults, I suppose. So I've compromised by not quite writing it out. Molly also did this in Hibiscus, when she, Rogelio, and Cassie were rescuing Moon from the Foxes; and you can be guaranteed that Barbara (the character who was the target of the epithet) was another extremely awful person and also that Molly was kind of very emotionally compromised about having to rescue her friend from nearly getting killed
> 
> "The kids were young and they were not all right, as the saying went (or rather didn't)." —no, the kids really are not all right. at least, not right now.
> 
> I Love Amelia Wicke
> 
> that little text exchange was really cute omg
> 
> so... Lysandre. yeah.
> 
> Plumeria's French: "I hope you die." Lysandre's response: "I don't care what you hope for." Plumeria's final response: "I will laugh at your funeral and dance on your grave."
> 
> voices??? first Guzma, now you... * _Alyssa Edwards voice_ * what the fuck is going on up in here on this day


	5. Chapter One: Acer japonicum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is cause for celebration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Acer japonicum_ is called either the Japanese maple or the full moon maple.
> 
> CTN Discord: https://discord.gg/nKwFqwX5
> 
> (Unfortunately, the Story chapter numbers will not be consistent with the AO3 chapter numbers. I am VERY sorry about this but the structure is important to me and I will always clarify what chapter or interlude we are on.)

For a few moments they all simply stood there, beaming at each other and the Rotom cameras; but then there was a loud beeping noise, and a voice sounded over a crackling loudspeaker: "Okay, we've cut to the ads!"

Kahili was the first one to go, the smile sliding off her face before she'd even quite turned around. Olivia was smiling at the rest of them, but it was the shadows under her eyes that drove Moon to make a decision.

"Okay," she said, turning to Professor Kukui. "Um, do we know about any other challengers today?"

"There's nobody in town, but you're allowed to close the League whenever you need to, yeah."

Moon frowned. "What about the live feed?"

"They've recorded everything, so they can play reruns."

"I can watch reruns of myself?"

"If you want, yeah," said Professor Kukui, grinning. "I've done it before. Pretty useful way to study and improve, yeah! Kahili does it all the time."

"Okay, speaking of Kahili—"

"Give her your publicist's number," said Professor Kukui, and he looked a little rueful. "She might need a little time to get used to you, yeah? And she'll appreciate not having to arrange things for you personally."

"I don't have her number."

"I'll send it to you," volunteered Molayne.

Moon eyed him. "I'm telling her you gave it to me."

"Yes, yes, I'm the meat shield. I know what I signed up for."

They all made their way out of the Champion's Chamber and down to the main lobby. Several people had entered, none of them familiar; Moon was quickly introduced to the main Alolan League production staff.

Vivian was the receptionist, greeting challengers at the front desk. Purnima and Sascha were the League's legal team, taking care of lawsuits and contracts and that sort of thing. Taskill headed up the custodial and maintenance teams. And there were three producers: executive producer Estefania, visual and video producer Ha-jun and audio producer Kichiro.

Once introductions had been made, Professor Kukui turned to Moon with a grin. "So what are your orders, Champion?"

"Um, let's close for the rest of today and do the thing where you run old battles and so on?"

He nodded, and the production staff vanished to make it happen. It went remarkably quickly— people bustled around them, and in a matter of minutes the lights began dimming, and Taskill led a team of Grimer and Muk out to clean.

Moon, Hau, Professor Kukui, and the remaining three of the Elite Four made their way outside. It was a strange feeling, being part of this.

She had just put on her jacket when someone called her name. Moon turned, surprised, to see Kahili walking back toward them.

"Yes?"

"I've made some calls. Obviously, you will need to be present at the League fairly constantly for... oh, the first month, at least? But you are also obligated to make some media appearances."

"Okay, cool. Um, let me give you my publicist's number."

Kahili blinked at her. "Your... publicist?"

"Yeah." Moon pulled out Rotom and found Caroline's contact information before flipping it around to show Kahili the screen. "I have like, zero idea what I'm doing, so I hired a publicist."

Kahili's face twitched with something like annoyance— which was not very promising, thought Moon, slightly dismayed. "Fine," she said evenly, pulling out her own Dex. "I will also need your contact information."

"Yeah, that's cool too. Rotom?"

"Sharing your contact information... and sharing contact Caroline Palmer. Done, bzzt."

"Thanks, buddy."

Kahili's phone buzzed, and she eyed Rotom for a few moments. "Useful," she commented. "Shall I arrange your schedule with her, then?"

"I mean, I'm here right now, so you tell me what you have lined up and I'll let her know. And then from there on you guys can like, coordinate."

"It would be simpler if I did everything." Kahili's voice was slightly stiff.

"Sure, but don't I have to do media stuff that's like, independent of the League?"

"You do."

"Well, you're already taking on a lot of work, and I'm really grateful about it, so I thought that Caroline could take care of stuff that's just for me and you can still be in charge of all the League stuff."

Kahili regarded her for a few more moments. "I would still prefer to have been consulted prior," she said, after a few moments. "And I will supervise everything to begin with, to ensure we're all on the same page. But I appreciate your motive." There was a noticeable pause, and then, almost through clenched teeth: "Thank you."

"You're welcome," said Moon immediately, hoping that good manners would soften the other woman up. "Now, what do you need me to do?"

"You will be appearing on _Good Morning, Alola_ tomorrow, and as such you will need to be at their studio in Hau'oli City by five a.m. to prepare for filming. You will be finished by seven-thirty, and the League opens at nine so you'll need to go straight there. The League needs to be open at least five days per week, preferably six. The maximum workday is twelve hours."

"Yeah, let's not do twelve-hour days," said Moon, shaking her head. "That's a bit too much even for me, and I _like_ Pokémon battles. I think a six-hour day is more than reasonable, because most people who get to..." She paused, glancing down at the little town that had popped up around the Pokémon Center and the helicopter pad. "What's this place called?"

"We've just been calling it League Town, but you could name it something else if you wanted, yeah," chuckled Professor Kukui.

Moon glanced at Kahili, who was staring daggers at the Professor. "If it involves like, actually changing things legally, then I'm not going to bother. League Town is fine. Anyway, most people who get to League Town don't want to challenge the League on the same day they arrived, so closing down by three means that the mornings will usually be full, right?"

"Correct," said Kahili, turning back to Moon and resuming an expression of neutrality. "I would have recommended an eight-hour day, but you are the Champion."

"If we have scheduling issues, we can expand our hours. Until then, let's not worry about it. Were there any other appearances I need to do?"

"Yes." Kahili opened her phone. "We will be holding a press conference here when the League closes tomorrow. I will update everyone who's been invited as to the hours."

"So three, got it. Where at?"

"Inside the main lobby of the League."

"Cool. Is it just me, or is it all of you as well?"

"The press conference is for the Champion, the Elite Four, and the island kahunas."

Moon nodded. "Neat. Anything else?"

Kahili looked down at her phone again. "Have you scrubbed your social media of anything embarrassing or compromising?" she said.

"There's nothing to really erase. I don't have much social media anyway. That's like, mostly what I hired Caroline for. I don't do Probobook or Chatwitter. I have a Spindagram, and I think maybe a Ribomblr?"

"You will need Probobook and Chatwitter," said Kahili placidly. "Spindagram and Chatwitter engage with the thirteen-to-thirty age group, but people over thirty tend to use Probobook."

"Cool, I'll have Caroline set those up."

Kahili eyed her. "You aren't going to manage them yourself?"

"My Spindagram is pictures of food and occasionally derpy Pokémon selfies," explained Moon. "I have no idea what to put on the other ones. Caroline's already got my personal website up, and she knows how to... do this."

"It's unusual," remarked Kahili, putting her phone in her pocket. "Most teenage girls have as many social media accounts as they can."

"That's true, but I'm an adult," said Moon, keeping her tone light. "Also, my publicist is in fact a teenage girl. Which is why she knows what she's doing."

Kahili stared at her for a few more moments, then slowly reached up with one hand to rub at the side of her head. "You'd better have everything straightened out with her legally." Her tone was icy.

"She's writing up an employment contract. I can run it with the legal guys here, right?"

"You can."

"Sweet."

There were a few more moments, and then Kahili let out a loud sigh. "All right," she said. "That's all I needed. Thank you, Champion Hawkins."

A Charizard swept down from the sky, and she climbed onto it and left without so much as a good-bye. Moon glared after her.

"We are not going to get along," she predicted glumly.

"Don't worry." Hau pulled out his Ride Pager. "I bet once she realizes that Caroline's going to make her job easier, she'll relax."

"I wouldn't count on it," said Molayne, grinning. "Now— to the afterparty!"

"The what now?"

* * * * *

Moon hadn't really been expecting any kind of celebration other than maybe ordering pizza with her parents, Hau's family, and Lillie; but apparently Plumeria, Molly, and Rogelio had taken it upon themselves to throw a massive party. Everyone was invited— all of Team Skull, the kahunas, the trial captains, and anybody and everybody Moon had ever met in Alola, it seemed like. Wicke had arranged for Aether to cater and sent it all to Iki Town; Hau's family had been directing a town-wide decoration spree with fairy lights and paper lanterns. Hau had applied his lifetime half-off discount for what had to be a hundred boxes of malasadas, and Professor Kukui had made an online order with Lunarbean for a huge trough of Pokébeans for all of the Pokémon that would be present at the party. Jeremiah was providing music, and Hala was organizing an informal Battle Royal competition.

At first, a lot of the Skulls seemed to be a little uncomfortable, glancing around at the beaming citizens of Iki Town. But Molly and Rogelio were teaming up, prodding people to get food or go dance by Jeremiah's speakers.

Moon was given a seat of honor, at a big table with a good view of the wooden battle platform. Her parents sat on either side of her, grinning proudly. Yoshiro had brought a bunch of his co-workers, who were chatting and eyeing the Battle Royal competition with enthusiasm; and Kapua had, in a surprising turn of events, taken it upon herself to video-call Yoshiro's parents in Kanto.

"Say hello to Nana!" she said, holding up the phone.

"Grandaughter! What's this I hear about you becoming a champion _—_ "

"Hi, Nana," said Moon obediently. "Um— yeah, I'm the Champion of Alola."

Her grandmother's face crowded into the edge of the screen. "Hmm," she said, squinting at Moon. She had a much stronger accent than Moon and Yoshiro. "You've gotten darker. Spending a lot of time outside?"

"That tends to happen when you go on a Pokémon journey."

Her grandmother sniffed. "Hmm."

She was unpleasantly reminded of her conversation with Kahili. Kapua was still smiling at the screen, but Moon could see a bit of strain in her mother's eyes.

"It's been a really fun journey," she said, taking the phone from her mother's hand. "But I don't have a whole lot of time to talk, because they're throwing me a party. Can I say hi to Grandad real quick?"

"A party?" Her grandmother perked up. "Will there be boys? You should wear your kimonos! If they still fit, that is."

"Well, I'm already here so I'm not going home to change." Moon ignored the question about boys, and the jab about her kimonos. "Can I say hi to Grandad?"

Her grandmother rolled her eyes and the video fumbled for a few moments, before her aging grandfather was looking at the screen.

"Mizuki!" he said cheerfully. "Congratulations on being a Champion! Now you have to come back to Kanto and beat your friend Red, eh?"

"Eh, maybe," said Moon, without missing a beat. "It's nice to see you, Grandad. Talk to you later!"

"All right, Mimi— some other time."

The screen jerked away from her grandfather and blurred. "Wait, I wasn't fin—"

Moon hung up before her grandmother could get back on the line, then handed the phone to Kapua.

"When did you get so good at wrangling Nana?" wondered Yoshiro. "She's impossible at the best of times."

Moon considered, then beckoned to both of her parents, lowering her voice as they leaned in. "After dealing with Lusamine," she said quietly, "Nana is a piece of _cake_."

They both choked on air. None of them could find it in themselves to explain the joke when people began asking why the three of them were laughing so hard.

* * * * *

Moon noticed that Professor Kukui had been watching the Battle Royal competition out of the corner of his eye for some time now; and when he began looking around with a wary touch of mischief in his eyes, she figured they were going to be in for some shenanigans.

She was distracted from the potential of said shenanigans by a legitimately fascinating conversation about Ultra Wormholes with Lillie and Professor Burnet, who wanted to compare their experiences of travel with and without protective gear— what did it feel like? Did they smell or taste anything? Did they feel sick afterward? Therefore, she was legitimately surprised when a lot of people began screaming and cheering.

They all turned to look, and there was the Masked Royal, in all his shirtless glory.

"Oh, wow!" exclaimed Professor Burnet. "I wonder what the Masked Royal is doing here— I'm a big fan, I _have_ to get an autograph, excuse me—"

She hurried away. Moon turned to stare disbelievingly at Lillie.

" _I'm_ not going to be the one to break the illusion," said Lillie pointedly.

Moon sighed. "Yeah, okay. I just think it's ridiculous that she's the only person who doesn't seem to know."

The Masked Royal stepped up to speak with Hala, who heard him out with amusement before nodding and indicating that he should take his place with the other waiting Battle Royal challengers. The current competitors were Jeremiah, Ki-moon, Almas, and Trinh, and they grinned at the Masked Royal before continuing with their battle. Moon watched the battle with an interested eye— the three Team Skull boys were unusually private about their Pokémon. It was a fairly common attitude amongst the Skulls, but Moon had only seen Almas's Mudbray and Ki-moon's Cottonee. She didn't think she'd ever seen any of Jeremiah's Pokémon before, but he was competing with a Pancham that shrieked as loudly as he did. Trinh competed with a Ribombee. Moon watched all of them with interest. She wasn't entirely sure who had the advantage. The winner turned out to be Ki-moon. He had wisely allowed Mudbray to take out Ribombee with a strong Rock Tomb; but then he'd quickly taken care of both Pancham and Mudbray with Cottonee's own type advantages.

They weren't half-bad Trainers, any of them. Guzma, Plumeria, and Gladion were all fantastic Trainers, clearly the best of what Team Skull had to offer; but the afternoon wore into the evening and Moon watched with increasing respect as various individuals of Team Skull held their own. Uilani's blonde Dugtrio had a real vicious streak, and Moon had never seen Cassie in a Pokémon battle at all but she did, however, remember the Houndoom who had heated up the shower pipes after that wretched day in Po Town. Cassie was a strategic thinker, winning two of every three matches she was in.

"I'm just really glad ol' Gladbags is on the other side of the world," drawled Raquel, stepping up to face Mina, Acerola, and the Masked Royal in a new match. She winked at Moon.

"And why's that?" Moon inquired archly.

"Because he'd kick all our damn asses, that's why."

"Watch it," said Plumeria, though there was no heat in her tone. "There's little kids around." She indicated Mel and Wiki, both snickering.

The Masked Royal proved victorious with his Incineroar, who was _coincidentally_ named Blazer just like Professor Kukui's Incineroar; Moon could have sworn it winked at her. But Mina's Ribombee and Acerola's Mimikyu all made good showings, and despite having the worst type advantage Raquel's Drampa didn't do too badly either.

* * * * *

Undercover the joy of the festivities, Moon went looking for and found Hau and Lillie, cuddled in a hammock in Hala's backyard.

"Oh, you're busy," she said. "Never mind then."

"We're not busy," said Hau.

"What do you need, Moon?" asked Lillie.

Moon turned to look at them. In the bright moonlight she could see curiosity and acceptance on their faces. Her two friends, who had been there since the very beginning.

"I wanted to walk—" Her voice caught, and she cleared her throat and tried again. "I wanted to walk up to see Tapu Koko's shrine. It's the only one I haven't been to." She considered. "I mean, I don't _remember_ going to Tapu Bulu's shrine, but I know I was technically there, and I'm probably going to go again with Gladion at some point. But I never quite made it to Tapu Koko's, because of the exploding bridge."

"Oh, that's fine," said Hau easily. "He's at home and expecting you. I thought you would go alone."

Moon stared at him, and he sighed. "Look, it's not quite the same as it is with Gladion and Nanu. One of the reasons Tapu Bulu can talk so directly to Gladion is because Nanu is like, unconsciously rejecting the kahuna bond. Gramps isn't, so I actually can't hear Ko— um, Tapu Koko, unless he really wants to talk to me. I can just like, vaguely pick up on some emotions. Also, I always know where he is now. And Gramps will always be able to do that, even after I'm— yeah."

"That's really cool, though," Moon told him honestly. "I actually did kind of want to ask Tapu Koko a question about that. But I sort of thought— this is how we started this journey. The three of us, and that bridge. So I thought maybe, this is how we should end it."

They both smiled— Hau, slow and warm; Lillie, soft and sweet. "You're a sap," said Hau, but he gamely assisted Lillie out of the hammock before climbing out himself.

The three of them went around the edges of the festivities— not sneaking, exactly; but Moon wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of anyone following them. She saw Nanu skulking by the entrance to Mahalo Trail.

"I'll keep people out for you," he said gruffly, not looking at them.

"Thank you," said Moon sincerely. "It means a lot."

"Yeah, yeah." He waved them off half-heartedly. "Go talk to 'em."

It wasn't until they were halfway up the trail that Moon realized he'd said _them_ and not _him_.

The three of them stood for a moment in the night, listening to the loud chatter of Pokémon in the jungled woods and looking at the sturdy wood and stone bridge that had been built across the chasm. Moon thought about bridges— about walking across them with Gladion, about closing her eyes against the drop on either side; but then she felt her hands clasped, on both sides.

"We've got you," said Hau quietly from her right.

"You'll be with us," Lillie assured her from the left.

Moon nodded, and they began walking across the bridge.

The other side came sooner than she expected, and she could already see the offering plates outside of that same stone doorway. Hau reached into his pocket, pulled out a rather squashy-looking malasada in a plastic bag, and peeled it out of the bag before setting it in the bowl.

"An offering?" said Moon, looking at the malasada.

"Bribery," Hau corrected her. "Tapu Koko likes Aguav berries and he was interested in how I described malasadas. He told me to bring one the next time I visited. I was planning on coming up here, though I was going to go alone and super late."

_I am glad you came earlier, then, for usually I sleep with the sun._

Tapu Koko appeared, in a swirl of golden light; and he looked down at them with a solemn face and twinkling eyes before turning to inspect the malasada.

 _It smells nice,_ he commented. Champion, you had a question for me?

"Yeah. Um— how does it work, exactly? Hearing... hearing voices?"

_You speak of Sol, Luna, and Grandmother Starlight._

"And Marshadow, but yeah."

Tapu Koko considered her for a few moments. _We choose to whom we speak,_ he said plainly. _All of us. We guardians must pick representatives, someone to be our human voice. The sun, moon, and stars do their own speaking, but not everyone wishes to hear their voices._

"So they're kind of... going through me?"

_Generally, yes._

There was something deceptively bland in his voice.

"I heard all of them today," said Moon, in a rush. "Before I battled the Professor. They told me— they said." She took a deep breath. "That the journey was only the beginning."

_Moon._

Tapu Koko's voice was gentle, and she swallowed. "Yes?"

_Say what it is you mean. I am more patient than my brother, but I know you are stalling._

"Is it always going to be like this?" The question burst from her lips, almost as though she had been given permission— and in a way, she had. "All of them talking to me, all the time? It was nice in the moment, they were really kind and everything. But my own voice is loud enough."

Tapu Koko didn't say anything, simply watching her— his eyes knowing.

"Where do I even start?"

_You've already begun._

That was a new voice: Nebby, unfurling circular wings and hovering before them.

"I don't know what I'm doing! I don't know how I'm supposed to— to pick people!"

 _But you're doing just fine,_ said Nebby, sounding nonplussed. _You were thinking about it when you were watching everyone battle._

"That!" exclaimed Moon. "That, too! Is my head not ever going to be my own anymore?"

 _Your mind is always your own,_ said Nebby. _This is just how we talk. Most Pokémon can't use their mouths to speak._

"It's different, Moon," said Hau quietly. Moon had nearly forgotten that he and Lillie were there. "Gladion and I— we've _always_ got the Tapus in our heads. Tapu Koko doesn't speak to me so much, but Gramps told me he always knows where I am, and that over time I'll always know where he is as well. We've sort of made... pacts. Promises. A little of us live in the Tapus, and a little of them live in us. You're only hearing the voices. They're not really in your head, unless you allow them to be. They can kind of watch, but they can't always hear everything. You had to have been thinking pretty loud for Nebby to have picked up on it, I think."

 _Hau speaks wisdom._ Tapu Koko floated closer. _Champion, you don't need to think about this too hard. You are the one who has been chosen to fix this broken land, but that doesn't mean you must find all of the tools and do all of the work yourself._

 _We will send you the people you can choose,_ added Nebby. _But we need you to choose, and to put them where they will go. That is your task._

Moon sighed. "I'm overthinking this, aren't I?"

 _Yes, but you wouldn't be you if you didn't overthink it,_ said Nebby earnestly, and both Hau and Lillie began to giggle. Moon turned to glare at them, but she couldn't keep a straight face and soon she was laughing with them.

 _That is more like it,_ said Tapu Koko approvingly. _Now, go back to the celebration. Today of all days, you are allowed to ignore fate in favor of a good time._

He disappeared, and so did the squashed malasada in the bowl. Nebby chittered in squeaky, coughing bat-laughter before turning back to Moon.

 _It's going to take time,_ she said plainly. _At least until after the nasty one is rousted from brother Bulu's island. Don't bother thinking about it until then._

That was a timeline, and timelines were something Moon could work with. "Okay. That helps."

_You are the kind of person who gets things done, Champion, and that is why we picked you. But like brother Koko said, you don't have to do it all by yourself._

"We'll be with you," said Lillie softly, reaching out to touch Moon's arm. "We'll always be with you."

"Yeah," agreed Hau. "We're your friends. We won't leave you hanging."

"I'm not going to cry," murmured Moon. "I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to cry..."

 _But you're already crying?_ Nebby sounded confused.

"Details," said Moon, grinning through the tears. "Don't worry about it."

* * * * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kahili is... really not having any of it, huh
> 
> Moon: my publicist is a teenage girl  
> Kahili: does she have her W2 for taxes? are you paying her in cash or check or are you setting up a direct deposit? are you giving her benefits? should we put her on the League health insurance plan? is she legally old enough to hold a job?  
> Moon: w-what  
> Kahili: I NEED YOU TO FUCKING THINK ABOUT THINGS BEFORE YOU DO THEM YOU LITTLE SHIT
> 
> I do actually really like Kahili lmao, but she's so like... cool, in the games. like she doesn't treat you any differently because you've done a journey.
> 
> it's the canon pre-credits after party!!!!!! with some liberties taken, but I literally love that scene so much so I had to include it.
> 
> oh boy Moon's grandparents. I have not yet given them names, though I plan to if I develop them any further; I mostly just wanted to show that Moon's family have kind of a strained relationship with the grandmother, specifically. poor grandad is oblivious. and actually so is the nana, but in a different way.
> 
> Moon's grandad is also the kind of person I would picture having about fifty billion nicknames for her. Mizuki (one of Moon's several canon names but I liked Moon better) and Mimi are just two but I'll make up more if we see Grandad again lmao
> 
> "After dealing with Lusamine, Nana is a piece of cake." — it's true though
> 
> Professor Burnet askin the real science questions
> 
> AND HIS NAME IS... THE MASKED ROYAL!!! *Kukui crashes through the wall to the sound of slightly off-key trumpets*
> 
> "I'm not going to be the one to break the illusion." —I considered capitalizing Illusion so that it would be a pun about Zorua/Zoroark's ability here, but it sort of distracted me from the main joke about Professor Burnet being the only one who has no goddamn idea that her husband is the Masked Royal. Just know it was a possibility.
> 
> I had (before this chapter) decided on the terror triplets each having two Pokémon at least, but I have expanded most Team Skull teams to four per person. They will only be named if I need them to be. Rogelio's four and Almas's four (you'll see them all later) have been named, but none of Molly's, Cassie's, Raquel's, Trinh's, Uilani's, Emmett's, Jack's, Jeremiah's or Ki-moon's have been named so I may throw a species out to the Discord every now and then and say "nickname that Pokémon for me." :D
> 
> Also, the original fourth person in that battle was Sophocles, but then I remembered that Almas and Sophocles haven't formally met one another _yet_ and Sophocles would literally be the person to hide under a table to avoid meeting Almas because he thinks he's that awkward.
> 
> aww the walk up to Makalo Trail just like in canon!!! my uwus have arrived
> 
> "Yes, but you wouldn't be you if you didn't overthink it." —roasted lmao
> 
> also yes, this is a repeat of Luminescence when Moon's like "I'm not fucking crying" and Nebby goes "lmao u tell urself that"


	6. Chapter Two: Lilium bulbiferum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which an invitation is issued and accepted, and in which two parties spend an enjoyable afternoon on the beach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Lilium bulbiferum,_ the orange lily, symbolizes confidence and pride.
> 
> CTN Discord: https://discord.gg/Jr8D8xS4
> 
> CW: depiction of a panic attack, reference to sexual arousal (in like the most normal way possible, this is probably not going to bother anyone but better safe than sorry), minor violence

Lillie woke, and knew immediately where she was: on the sofa in the living room in Kahuna Hala's house, with Hau curled around her like a warm blanket. Normally, she wasn't as much of a morning person as Hau was; but she was a light sleeper, and what had woken her was the creak of a nearby footstep.

Hau's younger sister, Melika-who-went-by-Mel, froze in place, tiptoeing through the living room. "I didn't mean to wake you up," she whispered.

"You didn't," said Lillie automatically. It was a lie and she had been working on that with Dr. Winberry; so she immediately corrected herself. "Well you did, but I sleep really lightly. Anyone would have woken me up, don't feel bad."

Mel looked guilty. "We're all going to be up and getting breakfast in a bit," she said. "Wiki and me have school today, and Dad and Momma and Grandad all have stuff to do."

"Don't worry about it," Lillie assured her. "We'll be up soon."

Mel nodded, though she still looked a little guilty; and quickly walked over to retrieve her backpack from where it was sitting on a shelf by the door before disappearing into another room. Once she was gone, Lillie turned and began to gently shake Hau's shoulder.

"Hau, wake up," she said softly.

"Hmm? Wha?" His eyes cracked open, and one hand came up to pull her face down, onto his chest. "Shh, Lillie. Sleep."

"Your family's getting up and getting breakfast," said Lillie, peeling his hand off her face and fighting the urge to giggle. "I don't want to use their couch while you sleep off the party."

"I never sleep in," mumbled Hau.

"You should sleep in your room, then."

"Oh, good idea. Bed. Come on."

"We're not going to—" began Lillie, but she couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence.

Hau, having lumbered to his feet, stood blinking at her for a few moments. Then his eyes opened fully. "Oh. Yeah, no, you should probably not be sleeping in the same room as me. Momma would _not_ like that."

"It's not that I don't want to," said Lillie, looking down at her lap, "but— well, legally you're an adult, and I am not, and we should probably not do anything that might make us— blur the lines."

"Yeah, no. I get you. Not thinking with my awake brain, just now." Hau squinted at her. "I should have put you in the guest room, but I was just too sleepy to think about it."

"I left my bags at Hapu's house anyway, so I— um, I don't have anything to wear." Lillie glanced down at the rumpled blouse and jeans she had ended up sleeping in. She hadn't been terribly comfortable, but she also hadn't been thinking about it too much because she was tired and cuddled up to Hau at two in the morning. They'd left the Skulls going strong.

"Um— I'd say I'd lend you something, but I think you might actually drown in my clothes."

Lillie considered. "Do you have anything left from preschool? I might fit into those."

Hau reached down, picked up a small cushion from the sofa, and threw it at her. Lillie swatted it away, laughing. "Hey, I was not always a big fella. I was probably about as big as you are now in..." He considered. "Like, seventh grade? Maybe? I had a real growth spurt after freshman year."

"Ah, yes, the summer of the Malasada Stone," said Leilani, walking into the living room and regarding them both with an amused expression.

Both Hau and Lillie froze.

"If you don't mind borrowing my clothes," continued Leilani, addressing Lillie, "I can let you borrow something. It will still be a bit large on you, but it will do until you're ready to go home."

"Thank you," murmured Lillie, flushing.

"You're also welcome to use one of the showers, though I would like to ask you to wait until after breakfast— everyone's using them right now and they have deadlines to meet. Now, _you_ —" She took Hau's arm, gently guiding him toward the kitchen. "—are going to start mixing up pancake batter, on the double; and after I've helped Lillie find something to change into, you and I will be discussing some house rules and basic manners, like offering your guest a guest room and, I don't know, _telling_ your mother if you would like to invite your girlfriend over for the night."

"Sorry," murmured Hau.

"I'm not angry," said Leilani, with a smile. "It just didn't occur to me that I needed to tell you things like that. You haven't had a girl spend the night before."

 _"Momma!"_ yelped Hau, but Leilani's smile shifted into a smirk as she closed the kitchen door in his face.

"I'm sorry," said Lillie immediately, feeling wretched. "I wasn't thinking, I should have gone back home for the night—"

"Oh, honey, no." Leilani reached out, taking one of Lillie's hands and leading her over to the stairs. "This is not your fault, and it really isn't Hau's fault either. It's not a big deal. Also, I would have had my boy making breakfast _and_ doing dishes if I found out he sent you home alone that late at night. He did the right thing by asking you in; he just didn't do the thing properly. And we're happy for you to stay, however long you want to or need to. So don't you apologize, honey."

Lillie couldn't trust herself to speak without tearing up, and therefore didn't bother until Leilani had led her into the room she shared with her husband. Kai was in the bathroom off their room, carefully tying his locked hair back into a neat lump at the base of his neck.

"Morning, Lillie," he said cheerfully. "What brings you here?"

"She stayed at ours last night," said Leilani briskly, not elaborating further as she opened a closet door. "But she forgot a change of clothes, so I'm lending her something. I've got some that are too small for me— a little old-fashioned maybe, since they're from before I had Hau, but they should fit you."

She pulled out two shirts, holding them both up for Lillie's inspection. One was bright pink and the other was bright orange, and both of them left a lot more arm and back on display than Lillie was accustomed to showing; but she gamely accepted the pink one, and Leilani grabbed a pair of soft cotton shorts in lurid shades of pink, violet, and blue. "These have a drawstring, so if it's too big just tie it until it isn't. You can change in Hau's room, he's not using it right now."

Lillie felt herself go pink again, and Leilani winked at her before showing her Hau's room and closing the door. She quickly changed, not wanting to think about where she was; though she did note Pokémon posters, a neat navy-blue bedspread, and a TV with a video game console before forcing herself to focus.

The pink shirt presented more of an issue than Lillie thought, in that no matter how she tugged on it, her bra was still visible from the back. She sighed, frustrated, and poked her head out of Hau's door.

Leilani happened to be passing by, and she raised an eyebrow. "All right?"

"What do I do about, um— my bra?"

Leilani blinked at her for a few moments. "Oh, right," she said, with a little chuckle. "You know, I'd forgotten about that. I don't really have anything else that will fit you or I'd get you something else, but you don't wear a bra with that shirt."

"Y-you _don't_? But how—"

"This isn't an insult, in any way," said Leilani, coming into Hau's room and closing the door, "but you don't have enough up top for it to really matter. Which is a good thing, trust me. When I wore that top I always had to cover my nipples with patches, or gauze and medical tape."

Lillie felt herself go scarlet again. "O-oh."

"I'll throw your dirty clothes in the wash, so just fold them up and put them right outside the door when you're done changing."

"Um— okay. Thank you."

She felt positively naked, walking back downstairs; but Hau glanced up from the griddle where he was flipping pancakes and his jaw literally dropped, so that was— rather gratifying. Lillie smiled tentatively at him and said, "Mrs. Akiona, can I help with breakfast?"

"You can help Mel set the table, honey," said Leilani briskly, "and then you can sit yourself down and wait because I don't let guests do more than the bare minimum."

"You want forks or spoons?" asked Mel, holding up a handful of each.

"I'll take spoons."

She laid spoons out at each of the seven seats at the table, and then sat at the seat that Mel pointed her to and waited. Hau was still staring at her, and a slightly smoky smell rose from the griddle.

"Hau Mikaere," said Leilani severely, "you're eating the burned pancakes. Close your mouth and focus on the food, please." She rolled her eyes at Lillie, but there was a knowing look in her eyes that made Lillie blush again.

Wikolia-who-was-called-Wiki walked in; her face lit up. "Lillie!" she sang, running around the table to hug her. "It's a surprise, I love surprises! Lillie came for breakfast!"

"Actually she was here _all night_ ," said Mel, sounding highly satisfied with herself. "She and Hau were cuddling on the couch. I _saw_ them."

Wiki gasped, looking delighted.

"Melika Samantha," said Leilani pleasantly. "Mind your manners, please. That's an awfully gossipy tone you have going there."

"Sorry, Momma."

Hau kept sneaking glances at Lillie, between flipping pancakes; and Wiki sat down next to Lillie and grinned.

"Your shirt's awful pretty," she said admiringly.

"Thank your Momma, it belongs to her," said Lillie.

"Wow, really? Momma, I didn't know you had such a pretty shirt!"

"It's from before I had any babies at all," said Leilani dryly, "and I looked a lot less like a dumpling at that point. And Lillie wears it very well, so she can keep it if she wants."

"Oh, no, I couldn't—" began Lillie.

"Oh, yes, you really _could_ ," said Hau, almost too quietly to be heard.

The pancakes were made, along with a pan of scrambled eggs and a stack of toast; and finally Kai and Hala came downstairs and all seven of them sat at the table. Mel squabbled with Wiki over where she was sitting, insisting that Lillie had to sit with Hau; Wiki pouted, but Lillie placated her by suggesting she sit on the opposite side of the table, so they could look across at each other. Wiki was appeased with this solution and Hau sat down on the bench next to Lillie, his eyes lingering for a few moments on her mostly-bare arms and exposed back.

Kai and Hala shot Hau and each other knowing looks during breakfast, which from any two other people Lillie might have found annoying— but Hau had come by his own charisma honestly and she found she didn't really mind the good-natured ribbing. Leilani kept winking at Lillie, which was both mortifying and gratifying; and it was only after Mel and Wiki left to catch the bus for school that Lillie and Hau were politely ushered into the living room.

"So in the future," said Kai gently, "we'd like to know if Lillie will be spending the night. It'd be nice to clean, and plan a good meal."

"You don't need to go to any trouble for me," said Lillie hurriedly, "I don't expect anything."

"What if we _want_ to?" inquired Leilani, and that shut Lillie up.

"If she's going to stay in your room, we might need to know to have Mel and Wiki sleep over at a friend's, or something."

 _"Dad!"_ burst out Hau.

"I'm just saying, you can make your own choices, but—"

"We've made a choice," said Lillie quietly, and silence fell; she appreciated that about the Akionas, that they never tried to talk over each other. "We're not— we're not going to sleep in the same b— the same room. For a while." _For at least nine months,_ supplied her brain, _because it's nearly March and you turn eighteen in December._ "So the guest room is fine, if I'm staying here."

"Okay," said Kai, with a nod. "Good to know. So, will you be needing the guest room?"

"Um— all of my things are at Hapu's house, so I'm going to go back today." Lillie hesitated. "But I don't know if I'll be staying there. My brother left early yesterday morning for Kanto, and he was staying with me at Hapu's so I might— go somewhere else."

She really, really didn't want to go back to Aether Paradise. Amelia would be happy to have her, but the restraining order against Lusamine meant that it would be fairly difficult to avoid the parts of the mansion where Lusamine lived. According to Moon who had heard it from Molly who had gotten word from Trinh, her mother was back in her old room and was very, very unhappy with the graffiti as well as Wicke's clear disinclination to have it removed. But there wasn't anything she could do about it; the house didn't technically belong to Lusamine, but to the Aether Foundation.

She could maybe stay with Professor Burnet; they had the little spare room in her Akala Island apartment. And there was the loft in Professor Kukui's beach house, as well. It left Lillie with a lot of options, so she wasn't too worried about it.

* * * * *

"You are always welcome to come back," said Hapu gently, as Lillie finished packing up her things.

Lillie smiled at her. "I know," she said. "And it's been lovely to stay here— but my therapy is only once a week now, and Gladion's gone to Kanto."

"Where do you plan on going instead?"

"Well— I'd like to be on Melemele Island, near Moon and Hau," admitted Lillie. "But I'm not sure where I might stay. I've stayed with Professor Kukui, so I'll probably do that again."

"I'm sure you will enjoy yourself no matter where you go." Hapu's voice was warm. "Farewell, Lillie. Until we meet again."

"Until next time," agreed Lillie, and got out her Ride Pager to call Charizard.

* * * * *

Lillie couldn't bring herself to text Professor Kukui.

She had been sitting in the Route One Pokémon Center for nearly an hour, with her luggage at her feet. An _hour_. It was so simple: she just had to pick up her phone and call him. He would probably pick up right away; since Moon was now the Champion, it was more than likely that he was at home, resuming his usual work hours. All she had to do was call.

But— she couldn't. When she thought about it her heart seized up, her breath came short. She couldn't impose like that. She couldn't just— demand to stay with people, just because. Amelia could, and did; that was fine, but Lillie couldn't.

The tears came without permission. Moon was having a long day of work— apparently she'd woken up ridiculously early and filmed an interview with _Good Morning Alola_ , which had probably already aired; but Lillie had missed it. Hau had mentioned that his plans for the day involved talking to Hala about kahuna training, and about when they would be ready to announce that he _was_ , in fact, training. There was a press conference later, that both Moon and Hala would be at; at that point Hau would be free, but until then she didn't want to interrupt him. Gladion was in Kanto, probably still asleep because of the time difference. The professors were both working.

It really only did leave Amelia, and even so Amelia would probably require some preparation time so that Lillie and Lusamine could coexist in the same house without violating the terms of the restraining order. The Skulls would be fine with it, but Lillie wasn't yet comfortable enough with them to coexist in the way that Gladion had done.

She blinked, and the world blurred. It was so stupid. There was no shortage of people who would accept her, who would gladly invite her into their homes. She could even go back to Hapu, except it would be quiet and lonely without her brother and it would look stupid if she left and then went right back. Moon was going to be busy all the time now, and Hau probably would be as well.

They were all moving on, and Lillie was— Lillie was _stuck_. She was stuck, she was alone, she was going to be stuck and alone forever, she might as well go back to Lusamine because nobody else would be willing to drag themselves down for her—

She didn't realize she was having a panic attack until her Trainer belt vibrated hotly against her waist and suddenly Lapin had burst from the ball, snuggling onto her lap and throwing his slender arms around her neck. "Lo, lo, lo," he chittered, worry in his voice.

She couldn't speak; she couldn't breathe. She was alone. Everyone was going to leave her behind.

"Lillie?"

It was a familiar voice but she couldn't place it.

"Lillie, kiddo, are you all right?"

No, but— that was normal. That was fine. There was something to be said for the familiarity of panic.

"Oh, damn— I can't remember your name, Lopunny. It's probably something Kalosian, right? Marion said most of Lillie's team are named something Kalosian... Lopunny, can I come closer? I just want to help."

"Lo, lo," said Lapin softly, and suddenly a pair of warm arms wound around Lillie's shoulders, pressing her into maternal softness.

"Oh, hey— hey, hey, shh, it's okay, I've got you, kiddo. It's just me, Kapua Hawkins— Marion's momma. Can you hear me, Lillie?"

"Pun lo, pun lo," crooned Lapin, in her ear. Lillie hadn't realized how hard her limbs were shaking until she had someone to press up against.

" 'M sorry," she gasped, " 'm sorry, d-d-don't wanna b-be a b-b-b- _bother_ —"

"You're not a bother, kiddo. Not in your wildest dreams will you ever be as annoying as my own kid, and I love her to bits and pieces." Kapua laughed softly, and somewhere in the back of Lillie's head it vaguely registered that this was a joke. "I'll just hold you until you calm down a bit, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

She would go eventually— everyone did. But Lillie allowed herself to be held, to be calmed.

"Now," said Kapua, producing a pack of tissues from her purse, "what's got you so frazzled in the the middle of a Pokémon Center on a Thursday morning?"

Lillie accepted a tissue, wiping tears and snot from her face— "Oh my god, I got, um, stuff on your shirt. I'm so sorry."

Kapua glanced down at the damp patch on her chest. "I've had worse," she said, shrugging. "When Moon was nine, she caught the flu at school. It was pretty bad that year, a lot of the kids were out sick for a couple of weeks. She threw up all over me about four times. It's part and parcel of being a mom."

Lillie opened her mouth to protest this, but then remembered that it had probably not been part and parcel of being a mom for _Lusamine_. Before she and Gladion were trusted to watch themselves, she had vague memories of a nanny who fed them and took them to and from the schoolroom, and who had probably dealt with bodily fluids like that.

"Seriously, it's okay," said Kapua, interpreting her silence as more guilt. "I have tons of shirts, and this will wash out. Now, do you want to tell me what's wrong? Because you don't have to, but I'm here if you want to talk."

"U-um—" Lillie's voice cracked. "It's stupid, I'm making a big deal out of nothing."

"Nothing doesn't make people cry, kiddo." Kapua reached out, placing one hand on Lillie's cheek. "I mean, sometimes it does, but for me that just means I should expect to start menstruating in a few days. Moon gets weepy around her time of the month, too."

"I know," said Lillie, because she did; they'd watched enough sappy rom-coms and sobbed over them during Lillie's varied insomniac fits during their travels on Melemele, Akala, and Ula'ula Islands. Moon generally didn't have any problems sleeping, but if she knew Lillie was having trouble with it she was usually happy to stay up and watch a movie with her. And sometimes they cried for no reason or talked about silly things— which actor was the cutest, or why the main character was five kinds of idiot, or whatever.

Sometimes, Lillie talked about Lusamine, in those quiet sleepless nights. Moon always listened, and the look in her eyes then was like the look in Kapua's eyes now.

"I can't help but notice," ventured Kapua, "that you have a lot of bags and things here. Are you heading over to the Paradise?"

"Probably," said Lillie, "but—" She clamped her mouth shut, just after her bitterness had begun to leak out.

"But what, kiddo?"

Kapua's voice was so soft, and her hand on Lillie's face softer still.

"But I— I don't want to," said Lillie, and the words came out in a rush. "It's my home, I suppose. I was staying with Hapu because my brother and I had therapy at the Poni Island hospital, but now he's gone to Kanto and it's— it's lonely. I'm used to being alone, but I don't want to be. A-and I suppose I should go back to the Paradise, but my mother is there, and there's a restraining order, and it's— complicated."

"You know," said Kapua, "I get pretty lonely, myself."

"Hm?"

"My husband lives at the Power Plant during the week, because it's a long commute and it's easier to just collapse into a bed after a twelve-hour shift. Moon's living here, but she's got a long commute and workday too. So I'm alone most days, and we've got a guest bedroom."

Lillie stared at her.

"I don't do very much, kiddo," said Kapua, her mouth quirking. "I clean when I have to, cook when I have to, buy groceries as I need them, and so on. I watch plenty of TV, too. But about three nights a week I go have dinner with the Akionas. Moon will probably be here in the evenings, and Hau will be over with his family doing— well, I don't know what Hau's doing right now, actually. But he'll be around, I'm pretty sure. So if you're comfortable with it, I'd be happy to have you stay at my house. You'd be doing me as much of a favor as yourself."

"R-really?"

"Really."

"Then—" Lillie swallowed. "Then I'd be happy to, to stay with you. If you don't mind."

She knew perfectly well that Kapua Hawkins probably didn't mean it, about Lillie doing her a favor. But it was a crafty strategy— to appeal to Lillie's sense of duty. Lillie thought, perhaps a touch cynically, that Moon must have been gossiping with her mother; but it wouldn't have been malicious, with Moon.

"Not at all," said Kapua, with a smile. "I've got some groceries to pick up, so how about you get yourself cleaned up in the bathroom, and we can walk back home together?"

"Um— okay. Thank you."

* * * * *

"I think it's a great idea, you staying with Aunt Kap," said Hau seriously.

"Yeah?" Lillie felt her heart lighten considerably.

"Yeah." Hau's arm wound around her waist, fingers skimming over the bare skin of her back. Lillie inhaled thinly at the touch, and knew that Hau noticed by the way he paused in his motion for half a second before continuing as though it hadn't happened.

They were at the beach down by Professor Kukui's house. Late February in Alola was warm but not quite proper beach weather, and there were only a few people around— teenagers after a long school day, older couples going on a walk. Hau had brought a quilt and a big beach umbrella, and they were sitting fairly far back from the ocean even though they had both brought swimsuits.

It was, though neither of them had said as much, a date. They hadn't actually been on very many dates. Hau and Moon had both been busy for the last couple of months. So it was nice to just relax with him, a gentle breeze blowing a few loose wisps of hair across her face. One of the pink strands tickled her nose, and she sneezed.

"She doesn't let on, but she really does get lonely. Mom said so," continued Hau. "It's part of why she got that grumpy Absol. The Meowth is getting a little older apparently, and Aunt Kap thought they could both use a new friend. But she probably misses having Moon around. She's kind of an empty nester now, I guess."

"I suppose I didn't see it that way before," admitted Lillie.

"Plus, Aunt Kap is way cooler than my mom," said Hau, with a grin. "I know for a fact she keeps soda stocked up for when Moon's at home, and I bet you anything she's going to ask you in a couple of days what your favorite flavor is and start buying that, too. My mom only gets soda for special occasions, and even then nothing with caffeine in it."

"I could tell Mrs. Hawkins that I like root beer," suggested Lillie.

Hau looked at her for a few moments. "It's sweet of you to offer," he said, still grinning, "but after going over some house rules with my parents, they've told me that I'm allowed to keep some food in my room if I want it, because I'm an adult and they can't dictate how I spend my money. So you tell Aunt Kap you like Cheri cola, and I'll buy my own root beer."

"That works, too." Lillie smiled at him, and Hau's grin went unfocused for a few moments before he leaned in to kiss her.

It was a while before Lillie noticed, but when she did she had to stifle her laughter. Generally when they were kissing, Hau became rather... _handsy_. Not in a rude way, of course. There were certain places neither of them went because, as Hau had once stated, _even if our bodies are ready my mind certainly isn't, so we're going to take things really, really damn slowly_. But his hands wandered, as though he needed to map every place he could. Sometimes his fingers curled through her hair; sometimes his hands wrapped around her face, with his thumbs brushing her cheeks like she was made of glass. Sometimes one hand crept down to the back of her neck. Sometimes he held her at the waist, steady and strong. And his hands changed places quite often, brushing gently down from neck to shoulders, or drifting down her back.

Today, his hands were not leaving her bare skin, exposed by the pink top.

"What's so funny, babe," said Hau, when it became clear that she was actually giggling too hard to keep kissing.

"You— you're just—" Lillie waved her hands around for a few seconds, but Hau merely looked confused, so she had to elaborate. "You're really, you're really focusing on just the one place, today."

His hands twitched on her skin, and suddenly heat radiated from his face a few inches from hers; he was blushing. "Yeah, well— okay, I don't have any excuse. You're hot."

It was Lillie's turn to blush, and it showed on her face and she couldn't maintain eye contact. Hau laughed—a low, intimate sound, for her ears alone.

"My beautiful Lillie," he said, and one hand drifted deliberately up— straight up her spine, across bare skin. She inhaled hard; it was like being set on fire. "All mine; how lucky am I?"

"N-no luckier than I am," managed Lillie, as one of his hands threaded through her hair, fingers winding along her scalp. Sparks showered over every place his hands made contact; and he slowly pulled her back in, lips meeting with even more fire than before.

Sometime later they broke apart with a gasp, and Hau said breathlessly, "Hey, um— I need to go swimming. Like right now."

"I— _oh_." It clicked, and she probably looked like a Cherrim, or a cooked Kingler. "Yes, um— that's fine, take your time."

She extricated herself from his lap, and he gingerly got to his feet before peeling off his shirt and sprinting over to the water. Lillie watched him fondly as he yelped his way to waist-deep. The air was warm, but the water was still quite cold and that would... help. With... with things.

"Hey."

Lillie glanced up, blinking, at a boy about her age. He was not wearing a shirt, and seemed to be puffing out his chest. "Hello?" she said cautiously.

"You're pretty cute."

It was strange, how quickly her emotions could shift. One second she was smiling at her sweet, silly boyfriend; the next second she was uncomfortable and annoyed. "Um, thank you."

"Wanna hang out with me and my friends?" He gestured at a group of boys about twenty yards away, goggling at them and nudging each other.

"No, thank you," said Lillie, and it was strange how _easy_ it was, now, to say no. It was something she had struggled with for a long time, but Dr. Winberry had made her practice saying it. "I'm here with my boyfriend."

"Isn't he a little old for you?"

"We're only a year apart, so no."

"Come on, that guy's gotta be like, twenty-two, and you're like sixteen."

"I'm seventeen, and he's eighteen," said Lillie coolly. She was rapidly getting fed up with this conversation; it was time to bring out the big guns. "You might have seen him yesterday on television, when he battled with Champion Moon."

"Oh, no shit?" The boy peered out at Hau, before turning back to Lillie with a grin. "He lost, though. Sure you want to be dating a loser?"

It was always Gladion who had the temper; he had inherited it from their mother. Lillie's own temperament was generally more nervous than angry. But when she blinked— there was Hau, cradling her aching, already-bruising fist with an expression of concern; and the boy was on the ground, howling in pain and clutching his face.

"Oh my god," said Lillie staring at him. "I just— did I just _hit_ him?"

"Yeah, babe, you did. Any particular reason?"

"He— he called you a loser."

Hau's eyebrows rose. "Oh."

"B-because you lost to Moon, but I think he was just— he, he wanted me to go with him and his friends," stammered Lillie.

"There's no one I'd rather lose to than Moon," pointed out Hau, rather sensibly. "She's the most gracious winner I've ever met. Doesn't gloat, always tells you what you did well. Without even thinking about it, really. Where did you learn to hit?"

"Gladion taught me," admitted Lillie. "When we were both staying at Hapu's. I practiced on hay bales in the barn."

"Ow!" screeched the boy, staggering to his feet. "That wasn't called for, you— you fucking b—"

"Buddy," said Hau, letting go of Lillie to loom over the boy by a good eight inches at least, "don't finish that sentence. Just don't."

He spoke quietly, but his height and muscle did most of the talking and the boy gulped visibly, fat lip wobbling, before turning and nearly running back to his friends.

"You pack a hell of a punch for someone so tiny," chuckled Hau, reaching for her hand again. "Gladion should have taught you how to do it so you don't bruise."

"I would have bruised no matter what," said Lillie, shaking her head. "I bruise really easily. I think I did it correctly, or it would be hurting a lot more."

"You _think_ you did it correctly?"

"I literally do not remember punching him," admitted Lillie. "I heard him call you a loser, and then the next second he was on the ground crying."

Hau regarded her for a few moments. For a few moments, she could have sworn that his normally charcoal-grey eyes flashed with a golden light; but it was gone as soon as it came. "You know how Nebby calls me your prince?"

Lillie blinked. It was a complete change in subject. "Um, yes?"

"And you said that was probably because of like, how you view me and how Nebby's picked up on your thought processes some because she's a Psychic-type who's spent a lot of time with you."

"Right."

"Right now," said Hau, his grin widening, "I kind of feel like the damsel in distress, though I am neither a damsel nor in distress."

She choked on a laugh. "Oh my god."

"It's not about needing or wanting to be rescued, or anything like that. It's like— having someone fighting for your honor." The smile was still present but he swallowed, looking down at the ground. "That's pretty— that's pretty great."

Lillie looked at him for a few moments, then stood on tiptoe to wrap her arms around his neck. He was wet and cold from the ocean, but she didn't really care about that.

"I'd do it again," she found herself saying. "And again, and again. Forever, if I have to."

"I don't think you'll have to. Sooner or later, anyone who talks crap about me will have to know that my girl's gonna find out and sock 'em in the face."

Lillie nodded, and kissed him. Hau smiled into it, pulling her closer.

"Let's go swimming."

"Okay."

* * * * *

Moon, fresh out of the shower with wet hair plastered to the sides of her face, stared at them incredulously.

"You _punched_ a guy?" she said.

Lillie held up her bruised hand, and Hau took it back and put the bag of frozen peas on top of it.

"Well, damn," said Moon, after a few seconds. "That's sick. Nice going, Lillie."

"On the one hand, it's best if you don't have to punch people," pointed out Kapua, mixing a large bowl of salad in the kitchen. "On the other hand— if you have to fight with someone, make sure you hit first, and make sure you hit hard."

Moon looked at her mother with the same incredulity with which she had regarded Lillie. Lillie fought not to laugh at the calm smile on Kapua's face.

"Oh my god," said Hau quietly. "That must be what it feels like to be Gladion."

"What do you mean?"

"He's always surprised when someone turns out to be cooler than he thought they were."

That was more due to having chronic and understandable trust issues with most capital-A Adults, but Lillie understood how it probably looked from Hau's perspective.

"Hey, Aunt Kap, can I use your shower?"

"Lillie has first dibs, because she's living here now," said Kapua, without missing a beat. "We're coming over for dinner, so you can run uphill and shower at your own place."

"Okay, that makes sense." Hau turned Lillie around, cradled her face in his hands, and kissed her— loudly and obnoxiously, with lip-smacking noises to intentionally gross out Moon. It worked, judging by the wrinkled nose and slight frown she presented them with when Hau let Lillie go. "See you in a bit!"

"Lillie's living here?" said Moon, as Hau bounced out of the front door.

"Temporarily," admitted Lillie. "It's— um, since Gladion left, Hapu's house has been a bit lonely, and I didn't want to go back to the Paradise. Amelia would have had to make a lot of arrangements for— um, for Lusamine. Because of the restraining order."

"Shouldn't it be her responsibility to find housing? Legally speaking?" Moon grinned when Lillie raised an eyebrow at her. "Hey, I did some research."

"Yes," allowed Lillie, "but if she stays on the Paradise she'll be well-supervised."

"Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer?"

"Something like that, yes." Lillie put the bag of peas back into Kapua's freezer. "Um, where's the shower? I should probably make myself presentable if we're going to have dinner with the Akionas."

"Here, follow me," said Moon, beckoning. Lillie followed her over to the side hallway that had the guest room in it, and Moon pointed at a different door. "It's this one. Listen, I'm stoked you're staying with us."

"Really?" It came out before she could stop it.

"Duh," said Moon, grinning. "You're one of my best friends, and I think Mom's been lonely."

"She said she was," admitted Lillie, "though I still think the invitation was made out of pity."

Moon studied Lillie for a moment, then opened another small door. This one contained stacks of towels and bedsheets on a shelf, and she withdrew a towel before handing it to Lillie. Lillie was already wearing a towel wrapped around her waist, but the dry one would come in handy for after the shower. "It's not just that," she said quietly. "It's— ugh, this is a little embarrassing. You know I didn't have any friends in Kanto, besides Red and Blue."

"You've mentioned it before."

"Mom and Dad both love you because you're one of my friends," said Moon, and she was flushing deeply enough for Lillie to see it on her golden-brown skin. "Mom probably invited you because she's _grateful_ , not because she pities you."

It was a perspective that Lillie hadn't considered; and it was this that truly put her awkwardness at rest. "If she feels that way, I can hardly refuse," she said, with a smile.

"Plus, Dad and Wicke were friends in high school, and they've been catching up here and there," added Moon. "They've probably all been gossiping about us anyway, and I bet Mom wants to mother the shit out of you."

Lillie rubbed at the back of her neck, knowing she'd gone pink again. "I'll let her," she murmured.

"Good." Moon patted Lillie on the shoulder. "Glad we had this talk, let's never do it again."

"Agreed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hau: "Not thinking with my awake brain, just now."  
> Scribe: * _blushing into the next century as she writes_ * yeah no FUCKING kidding
> 
> it has come to my attention that the term "dreadlocks" has racist origins in that it's a portmanteau of "dreadful locks," which is what white people used to call locks. because they thought they were gross. I may have mentioned this already in an A/N but it bears repeating. and if you see me slip up and use the wrong term by accident feel free to remind me about it.
> 
> you know how family can be well-meaning but at the same time so fucking embarrassing? this is... very that
> 
> I was bullshitting about open-back tops being popular in the "before Hau was born" era. at this rate Moon and Hau were literally born in the year 2000. however, they do live in essentially Hawaii where you have to dress for the weather or Die so maybe it was a thing, idk. anyway the shirt I'm imagining is bright pink and has short sleeves, a little band at the back of the neck to hold the thing closed, and then like... an open back until the waist which ties closed.
> 
> Hau's mostly respectful but still indulgent male gaze, what up
> 
> Lillie's anxiety about not wanting to be a bother/burden/impose on other people at all in any way, shape, or form is literally me. hi, welcome to hell, it sucks here and I want to leave
> 
> Listen, Leilani and Kapua are both Good Moms and they have both heard some variant of the Lillie-and-Gladion story, both on Aether Paradise during _A Bouquet in Four Parts,_ and because their kids have given them a few more details in private. So both of them are, as Moon says, wanting to mother the shit out of Lillie. And also to punch the fuck out of Lusamine, but they're like, Responsible Adults who are not going to do that.
> 
> haha so literally Moon challenged the League on February 27, 2019 (I am assuming that she began her journey in June 2018 and I calculated full moons for December 2018 back in Jacaranda) so I googled "what day was February 28 2019" and got Thursday. which works with my timeline of Weedkiller happening on a Saturday morning. so there is an actual timeline of events, it's just... very vague. except for when I want it to be lmao
> 
> The making out on the beach was... *fans self* _whew im blushing_
> 
> HAHAHAH LILLIE PUNCHED A DUDE BECAUSE HE TALKED SHIT ABOUT HAU HAHAHAHAHAH
> 
> it is in fact the responsibility of the person who is served with a restraining order, versus the person who files the restraining order, to seek alternate accommodations. at least, that's how it is in most parts of the USA. ur mileage (kilometrage?) may vary.
> 
> omg I didn't expect to have Kapua feels when writing this chapter but now I do??? I love writing healthy, non-toxic moms


	7. Chapter Three: Grevillea banksii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it's too early for this shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Various forms of _Grevillea banksii,_ also known as red silky oak or the kahili tree, have been in cultivation for many decades; however, it is less common than before as it has been replaced by hybrids such as G. "Moonlight."
> 
> Join the CTN Discord!!!: https://discord.gg/PvhQYeBT
> 
>  **Content Warning:** racism and microaggressions (which ARE called the fuck out, I don't condone that shit); slightly squicky description of a hypothetical minor medical condition

* * * * *

Kahili might not like Moon, but she was still there when Moon arrived at the Alolan Publicity Corporation broadcasting building in Hau'oli City at four forty-five in the morning; and so, to her relief, was Caroline. Caroline looked exceptionally nervous, but her expression was determined, and she held out a stack of paper as Moon walked up to the two of them.

"I kind of ate through my savings to meet a lawyer and go over this, but it's an employment contract and it goes with the terms you mentioned the other day over text," she said firmly, before Kahili could even begin to speak. "So if you could go over it with your legal people, and sign everything, then hopefully you can start paying me so I don't go broke."

"Cool."

"Also, I want to get your social media accounts set up. You can keep your personal Spindagram and run that how you want, but it might be a good idea to have an official one as well. And we need Chatwitter and Probobook. Do you remember your Ribomblr account username?"

"I've got no idea," confessed Moon, though her eyes flicked to Kahili. "Um, Caroline— this is Kahili, she's one of the Elite Four and in charge of the League's public affairs, which are separate from my personal public affairs. Which you are in charge of. Kahili, this is my publicist, Caroline Palmer."

"May I see that?" said Kahili, gesturing at the packet.

"U-um, yes, I suppose."

The older woman leafed through the packet, eyebrows rising; but she didn't make any comment, merely handing it back to Caroline with a nod. "All right. The greenroom is this way, and the anchors want to talk to you before they air."

"Cool," said Moon.

"Did you bring something else to wear?"

"Uh— oh, shit, should I have done?"

Kahili sighed. "It's my fault for not mentioning it." She eyed Moon's outfit, a tank top and plain black leggings. "It will do, though I'd prefer you had a cardigan or a jacket."

"I've got one," volunteered Caroline, opening her bag. "I always have one, I get cold all the time. You can borrow it."

"Thanks," said Moon, pleased.

The anchors were very nice, though Moon promptly forgot their names because it was stupidly early. She was also distracted by the enormous table of makeup and the bustling assistants in the greenroom, but that was beside the point. Caroline, to Moon's surprise, talked more to the anchors than she did, and said intelligent things besides: _Can I see the list of questions you want to ask Moon? Hm, thank you— you should probably not ask this one, or these, because there's some legal stuff related to the answers, honestly you just don't want to open that can of Wurmples. Are these questions, right here, absolutely necessary? They sound like tabloid questions, don't you think? I've been fielding calls from Lara LaRue that sound suspiciously similar. Yes, I know the people want to know a little more about Moon personally, but that's her prerogative. No, she's not talking much now, but it's very early. You need to give her caffeine. I promise once she's awake, she won't shut the hell up. Also, she can't really talk when they're putting on the TV cakeface. But she's got a very strong personality, and when she is awake and able to talk you're going to see it clearly._

Moon couldn't resist peeking over at Kahili, who was staring at Caroline. The anchors and the producers sputtered at the teenage girl telling them off, but she held her ground and in short order, the makeup was finished and there was a large plastic cup with some kind of sinful, sugary caffeine in it. She wasn't sure if it was hot cocoa with coffee in it, or coffee with chocolate in it; either way the proportions were about even, and besides that there was whipped cream and caramel. Life with a publicist was not half damn bad.

* * * * *

"...and joining us here today, before her very first day of work as the Champion of our brand-new League: we'd like to welcome to APC's _Good Morning, Alola_ — Moon Hawkins!"

At a wave from the producer, Moon strode out of the backstage area to where the three anchors were sitting. She waved at the cheering studio audience and took the squashy chair to which she was directed.

"Ooh, comfy," she remarked, wiggling in place and drawing a laugh from the crowd.

"Glad you think so," laughed the closest of the anchors; he had coppery reddish-brown hair and a fluffy mustache. "Now, Moon— we're all really curious about you, because you haven't been on social media a whole lot. All we know is that you're our Champion, and you have a Spindagram account with lots of pictures of food."

"And derpy selfies," supplied Moon. The producers obligingly put a visual up on the screen behind them— a Spindagram post she'd made about six months ago, in a restaurant in Konikoni City with Hau and Lillie, all of them making the weirdest faces they could. Moon's eyes were crossed, and she'd stuck out her upper jaw into an overbite; Hau had wrinkled his nose and mouth into a creepy smile and was squishing Lillie's face with his hands— she was laughing, but you couldn't see much of that in a picture. "Yeah, like that."

"Are those your friends?"

"Yep, that's Hau and Lillie. They're going to murder me after watching this. Hi, guys! This is totally not my fault!" She waved at the camera before turning back to the anchors. "Well, what did you want to know, exactly?"

"Well, let's start with something easy: your teammates." The female anchor grinned, when Moon's hand automatically went to her Trainer's belt. "You can bring them out and introduce them, if you want?"

"Um— I'm not bringing them _all_ out," said Moon immediately, to groans from the audience. "I know, I know, but— uh, one of them gets really, _really_ excited about audiences and forgets that she's twelve feet long, so there will be smashed-up recording equipment. And two of the others are a little, um— well, my Jolteon is _super_ grouchy, and my Golisopod is really shy. So it will just be the three that won't mind coming out."

She got Hero out first, as the largest one; then Puck and finally Ariel, who fluttered around the anchors in a quick, happy circle before settling on the back of Moon's chair. Puck stood awkwardly behind her, wings folding down to his sides and back as he shuffled from side to side, talons clacking on the hardwood floor. "Right, so— the Metagross is Hero, the Toucannon is Ariel, and the Decidueye is Puck." She enunciated _Puck_ clearly, as the production team had asked her to do. "They're all named after characters from the plays of William Shakespeare. I'm a bookworm and low-key a huge nerd."

"See, that's something we didn't know!" exclaimed the last anchor, a balding man with glasses. "We're already learning so much. Would you consider any of your teammates in particular to be your ace, or the team leader?"

"Oh, that's Puck for sure." Moon reached up, trying to find Puck without looking; he let out a sigh loud enough for the microphones to pick up and leaned down to press his face against her hand. "There you are. He was my starter. He's also a little grumpy, but he's really smart, and also confident. I always know I can rely on him in a pinch."

She heard him preening, and a few scattered giggles rose from the studio audience.

"And what about the rest of your teammates? What are they like?"

Ariel cawed loudly, turning to look at Moon with an expectant expression; this produced more laughter, Moon's among it. "Yes, girlfriend, I'm getting to you. Ariel is one of my tanks, which you might not expect by looking at her— she's the second-smallest one on my team. But she's really solid in battle, and I've won some truly difficult fights by keeping her moveset away from what most people expect in a Toucannon." She glanced at Ariel, whose beak had lifted in pride, and put her hand to her face as though to whisper, though she didn't lower her voice. "She's also a bit of a diva, but I kind of love that about her."

Ariel squawked indignantly, but there was a sparkle of amusement in her eyes that Moon knew meant she didn't mind the joke, and the audience laughed again.

"Oh, how fun! What about Metagross?"

"Hero's my other tank, which is something you _would_ expect— Steel-types are always bulky, you know. But they hit hard, too. It's funny— I met Hero as a Beldum on Mount Hokulani, but my Jolteon was really resistant to the idea of me adding a fifth teammate to the roster. But Hero wanted to come with me, so they followed me down Mount Hokulani, and up Route Eleven and Twelve, and by then they'd won Jolteon over so I asked them to join. They were a Metang by then. It was pretty cool."

She was not at all going to mention what had happened in Haina Desert. None of what she had said was technically a lie, but the Haina was meant to be out-of-bounds for island challengers who hadn't passed Nanu's Grand Trial.

"Now, you said you wouldn't bring out your other teammates, but would you tell us about them? We do have pictures we can show the audience."

"Oh, really? Cool. Um— so there's my Jolteon." She glanced around the studio, and saw both a smaller screen on the floor, angled up towards herself and the anchors as well as a larger one behind them, for the audience. The black-and-white picture of herself on the website that Caroline's friend Vanya had done up was blown up, with a drawn-on arrow pointing to Ben. "His name is Benedick, but I just call him Ben. I raised him from an egg, which means that I'm not only his Trainer but essentially his mother, and... well, he treats me that way. Which a lot of the time, it means that he's grumpy and swearing at me and sulking for no reason. And I know it sounds like I'm just complaining about him, but like— the thing is, that's how he knows I love him. If I didn't love him, I wouldn't care that he was a brat. Because he's definitely a brat, but he's _my_ brat. He's a Jolteon, so he's fast and he hits hard."

The female anchor nodded. "Fans of your battle style have observed that you usually have him set up Thunder with Rain Dance, which is a pretty risky choice for a Jolteon in the metagame. They're not known to be able to take hits, and some would argue that Rain Dance allows an opponent a free hit."

Moon snorted. "Maybe that's true if you're setting up Rain Dance and you _aren't_ tiny and incredibly light on your feet," she answered promptly. "When I say Ben is fast, I mean he's _fast_. He's definitely my fastest teammate, though Puck comes in a pretty close second. Ben almost never gets hit, which would not be the case if I tried to rely on Thunder without setting Rain Dance up first. Rain Dance with Thunder is a _guaranteed_ hit, with greater power; without, it's just as likely to miss as it is to hit— and thereby afford an opponent more opportunities to attack. Some people would argue that Thunderbolt is more reliable in a pinch, and that's definitely true— but STAB Thunder hits, in metagame terms, for two hundred percent damage. That's power I can't forgo."

"Should you be revealing that much strategy about your team on public television?" joked the mustachioed anchor. "What if challengers watch your interview and decide to challenge you after you've discussed your metagame?"

Moon raised an eyebrow. "Ben's one of six," she said, smirking at the camera. "Electric-type is only weak to Ground-type— if they can even hit him to begin with. And I have both Grass- _and_ Water-types on my team. And I follow the metagame, too; I know that Rain Dance and Thunder isn't usually a viable strat. So anyone who's trying to get tips for challenging me from a television interview alone— I just have this to say: you can certainly _try_."'

The television audience gasped and murmured, but there was something admiring in their tones. Moon was glad, because that had been a pretty ballsy comment to make. But it was something Blue might have said, and she was trying to channel Blue as much as she could for public appearances. What had once been mere bluster and swagger was now confidence and pride— backed up, she thought, by having someone he loved and who loved him back, someone he could rely on. She already had that, both in Gladion and in all her other friends and family.

"Speaking of Water-types," suggested the balding anchor, "tell us about your Golisopod."

"Oh." Moon sat up straight; she was actually fairly excited to talk about this, because it had been a point she'd soapboxed about to a lot of people, including Caroline and, however briefly, Kahili. Both of them had approved for her to tell this story— Kahili had stated it was for reasons of improving her public image, but Caroline had simply said, _it shows people who you are_ , and Moon wasn't quite sure what the younger girl meant by that but she was pretty certain it was a compliment. "Okay, yes. My Golisopod is named Lady Macbeth, though I just call her Macbeth usually."

"Isn't Lady Macbeth a villain, in Shakespeare's plays?"

"Yes," agreed Moon. "But she's one of the most powerful female characters in the entire collective works of Shakespeare, and that matters in ways I'll get to explaining in a second. So, I met Macbeth when I was on Akala Island. I was, um, spending some time with, uh—" She paused, suddenly realizing she hadn't discussed whether or not Gladion was okay with her discussing their relationship in public with him or not; he probably didn't care that much but it was better to be safe than sorry. "Uh, with a guy who is now my boyfriend. We were out on the beach on Route Eight, just chilling and letting our Pokémon play, and this little Wimpod comes skittering up to me and my Bug-type phobia so I _completely_ freak out."

"You're scared of Bug-types?"

"It's not nearly as bad as it used to be," clarified Moon at once. "I kind of, you know, had to get used to them. And I have a— um, an acquaintance who's a Bug-type Trainer, and the way he treats his teammates is like— I dunno, I can't really be freaked out when I'm watching him pet a Spinarak the way you or I might pet a Rockruff. But yeah, in general I'm still a bit uncomfortable around Bug-types."

"I think many people feel the same way. So, Wimpod comes up to you?" prompted the female anchor.

"Yeah, and she was freaking out, too. There were these— these two kids." Moon paused for a few moments, looking at the camera. "They were playing with the Wimpod, or maybe they thought they were, but like— they were probably twelve-ish, which is old enough to know that firstly, you don't just _play_ with wild Pokémon, that's a bad idea and you can literally get killed, and secondly, you don't play with wild Pokémon by _hitting them with sticks."_

Gasps and murmurs rose from the audience, and Moon nodded grimly. "Yeah, I was really— I was _not_ happy about that, and I let them know. Even if I was creeped out by the little Wimpod hiding behind me, it's like— I'm not just going to stand by and watch a couple of kids pick on her. It's _wrong_ to hurt Pokémon. They're far more powerful than you or I could ever be, but for the most part, they seem to trust and like humans. It's our responsibility to treat them well and to respect them. So I kind of— I yelled at those kids."

"Oh, I bet they regret that now," said the female anchor, with a grim smile.

"Maybe, but they were like twelve, and I know that when I was twelve I was a little sh—" Moon blanched, coughed, and cleared her throat. Kahili and Caroline, across the studio, were staring daggers at her for almost swearing on public television. " _Twit_. I was a little twit. When I was twelve." The audience laughed at the obvious correction, and so did the anchors; it cleared the slightly somber mood that had settled over the crowd. "For the record, if the two of you are watching and you recognize me or remember this, then I'm not sorry for yelling at you, though I am sorry for being mean about it. But I was just so _mad_. The poor little Wimpod was so bruised, to the point that it was showing under her shell! The shells are kind of— translucent, you know, when they're at that age. Because they live on beaches and in the water a bit, and they try to camoflauge with their surroundings. So I could literally see bruises, and she was so scared she was shaking, the poor thing. I yelled at those kids, and they ran off and then the Wimpod just— she just adopted me. And I was kind of nervous about my Jolteon— or I should say, Eevee, because at that point I hadn't evolved him yet. He was a brat even then and I wasn't sure how well he would take to her, but I brought him out to meet her and he just looks at her and goes, _oh, she's cute_. And that was the first time I'd ever seen him express a positive emotion about anything that wasn't food or biting things he shouldn't, so I decided it was a sign and she joined my team. The two of them are best friends— frankly, I think they love each other more than they love me. But as long as they're happy, I'm happy."

At this she received a round of applause from the audience, which made her blink in surprise. The anchors solemnly joined in. It looked like Kahili and Caroline had been right about this story.

"So why did you name her Macbeth?"

Moon grinned. "She was so shy, in the beginning," she said fondly. "When I caught her, she was just— shaking like a leaf. And I thought— well, if I'm going to raise this little girl, I'm going to do the thing properly, and make sure she grows up to be a confident, powerful fighter. Wimpod are, you know, wimps. That's normal. But Golisopod are tough, and I wanted my little girl to be tough. So I gave her the name of a tough, powerful woman. Lady Macbeth is like, actually one of the best villains ever written. There's this— like, this power dynamic in gender, that existed in Galar and everywhere else at the time Shakespeare wrote his plays. Women could have power, certainly, but it was generally inherited from men. They were powerful because they married well, or because their father was wealthy. But Lady Macbeth, she went beyond that. Yes, she was an absolutely terrible person who did terrible things, but she also went and _did_ them, and she didn't take power just because her husband did. She took power in _spite_ of her husband. She was bold and confident and supremely evil, and I'm pretty sure that my Macbeth doesn't give a damn about Lady Macbeth the character, but now she's— well, if Lady Macbeth the character is bold, confident, and supremely evil, my Macbeth is, at the very least, bold and confident. I like to lead with her in battle, for obvious metagame reasons. Though having said that, you should expect my strategies to change." She winked at the camera.

The audience cheered again, and the female anchor was outright grinning. The mustachioed man was smiling thoughtfully, though the balding one looked just a touch uncomfortable.

"What a wonderful story," said the female anchor warmly. "It's really clear that you care deeply about your teammates and about Pokémon in general. Thank you for sharing that."

"Sure thing. I mean, you're welcome." Kahili's expression, on the other side of the room, was flat and unamused. Moon did her best to ignore the intimidating stare.

"That leaves your last teammate, who we have to confess— none of us, nor anyone on our production team, could recognize her from the picture alone."

"Ah, yes." Moon glanced down at the screen as the picture shifted, with the drawn-on arrow indicating Kate. The picture on the website had been of her still as a Poipole, but even as she watched, the picture shifted to show Kate as a Naganadel, in what was clearly a screenshot of her battle with Hau. She was facing down BB, clearly gearing up to use Flamethrower. "This is Katharina, or Kate for short. She's the one who would get really excited and destroy everything on the set because she couldn't contain her joy, which is why I'm not actually bringing her out. Um— so... yeah." She cleared her throat, blushing; Kahili's stare was quickly narrowing into a proper scowl. "Um, do any of you all remember, um, recently, when the, um— the moon vanished? For a night?"

"That was a few months ago, wasn't it? At the very end of the year."

Moon nodded. "So, um— there was some stuff, that happened. With legendary Pokémon. I can't get into details because a lot of it is, um, classified by the Alolan government and INTERPOL and stuff, but, um— what you need to know is that I was involved in that, the moon vanishing and then reappearing. So as a, um— a gift, in gratitude for the services I offered during that time, I was given Kate. In her pre-evolved form, at the time. That was the first picture. She's since evolved, as you can see."

"Can you tell us anything about her? What kind of Pokémon is she?"

"Well, I know we took some pictures and did measurements and things for the international Dex, with Professor Kukui's assistance. So she's probably in there, somewhere. Um, she's a Poison- and Dragon-type. She was just Poison before she evolved, but gained Dragon on evolution."

"Oh, wow! That's a pretty rare typing."

Moon nodded again. "It's shared with Dragalge, but other than that, yeah. Good typing, too— Poison-type negates the immediate weakness to Fairy that Dragon-types have, and Kate's also really versatile. She can learn a lot of different moves. I usually have Toxic, Venoshock, and Dragon Pulse on her, but the fourth move I'll switch out for different battles. She can use... um, let me see if I can remember. It's a long list. Air Cutter, Hidden Power, Hyper Beam, Thunderbolt, Leech Life, Sludge Wave, Flamethrower, Sludge Bomb, Fire Blast, Aerial Ace, Acrobatics, Shadow Claw, Smart Strike, Fly, X-Scissor, Dragon Tail, Poison Jab, Snarl, and Dark Pulse. And those are just offensive moves; she can learn all the usual things like Rest and Protect, and whatnot."

"That's a very comprehensive list," said the mustachioed anchor. "Do you have preferences among those?"

"Flamethrower for sure. I don't have any Fire-types and it's great to defend against Ice-types. If she could learn Sunny Day, I might consider Fire Blast, kind of like how I do Rain Dance and Thunder with Ben— but she's not as fast as he is, so I don't think it would work as well. Um, Air Cutter's also really good. So is Dark Pulse as I haven't got a Dark-type teammate, and it counters the Poison-type weakness to Psychics— but that's metagame stuff. Kate's very much a special-attacker."

"Yes, that's a very special-attack focused moveset," said the balding man, nodding. "How did you get her? I know you said she was a reward, but where might one catch a— ah, you didn't say the species name."

"That was on purpose," said Moon apologetically. "I was sort of hoping you wouldn't ask. I'm pretty sure I'm allowed to tell you, but the more people know the more they _want_ to know, and all that. Um— unevolved, the species name is Poipole, and evolved, it's Naganadel. And you can't find them in the wild in Alola." She paused. "Or anywhere on Earth, actually. Don't think about that too hard, it goes into stuff I really _can't_ talk about, or INTERPOL will disappear me." The audience was suddenly, fascinatedly silent. "That was a _joke_. I'm too prominent a public figure at this point to be disappeared."

Relieved laughter rippled through the crowd, and Moon grinned, making finger guns at the camera.

"So she's unique?" pressed the balding anchor.

"Yep."

"Wouldn't you say it's a little unfair for you to use a unique Pokémon in official League battles?"

Moon blinked at him. "Maybe," she said neutrally, "if I hadn't just told you her typing and the details of the moveset I generally use with her. That's now public information. Though anyone might have guessed Poison-type, just by looking at her. That bright shade of purple isn't found in nature _except_ on Poison-type Pokémon. It's one of those biological signals— to predator Pokémon, it says _eat me, I look like a delicious Berry_ , but then it's poisonous and the predator dies. Which then means that it also says, _don't touch me because brightly colorful things will kill you_. You can see similarly bright colors in the Crobat line, who are kind of a similar shade of purple, as well as Grimer and Muk in both Alola and in other places. Um, the Venipede family are also brightly colored, and so are Roserade, Vileplume, Arbok, Seviper, and a whole bunch of other Poison-types. So an educated guess might lead a scientifically well-read Trainer to correctly assume Poison-type."

The balding anchor frowned but nodded. He didn't seem to like her, and Moon had noticed the difference when she'd gone off about Lady Macbeth and women having power, so her best guess was that he was probably kind of sexist and therefore uncomfortable with having historical power dynamics of gender pointed out to him on public television, or something like that.

"And you can't catch Poipole or Naganadel on Earth, but they aren't unique. I've fought a Trainer with a Poipole before. I've known of their existence for... at least six months, probably longer. So it's not truly a unique Pokémon; just very rare."

"You mentioned that you have a Bug-type phobia," said the mustachioed anchor. "And your— Naganadel, you said? It sort of resembles a Beedrill, in a way."

Moon grimaced. "I have had that pointed out to me, but I try to ignore it."

"Isn't it difficult?"

"It might be more difficult if Kate's personality were different, but she's— well, she's basically a twelve-foot hyperactive Rockruff in disguise. She gets into everything, she knocks things over, she forgets she's enormous and tackle-hugs me all the time. I'm told by people in the know that she will mellow out with age, but despite her size she's my youngest teammate, so I don't mind if it takes her a little longer. Kids will be kids."

That produced another laugh.

"Now," said the female anchor, leaning forward and resting her hand on her chin. "You mentioned a boyfriend, earlier?"

Moon coughed. "Um, I haven't had the opportunity to talk to him about talking about him in public, so, um— no comment."

"Surely he wouldn't be mad if you told us a little about him," laughed the mustachioed anchor.

"Probably not, but I'm still going to talk to him about it first. He's a very private individual and this isn't something I'm going to spring on him without asking."

"That's fine," said the female anchor, with a nod. "We were just curious, that's all— we know all about your teammates now, but we still don't know a whole lot about you."

Moon shrugged. "I'm an open book, ask away." She paused. "Though I may not be able to answer some questions, again for legal reasons."

"Fair enough." The female anchor glanced down, consulting her notes, but the balding anchor burst in before she could say anything.

"Where are you from?" he said, offering a placid smile. "You don't look like a native Alolan."

It was like being instantly transported back to Kanto: back to kindergarten, really. Walking into her very first class and seeing an entire room of children with black hair and pale skin— while she was the color of honey. Hearing that question, over and over and over, every year, every time she met someone new.

Moon regarded him for several long moments, but just as his smile faded slightly into vague annoyance, she shifted, clearing her throat. "I was born in Kanto," she answered, folding her hands in her lap, "but I am half Alolan, one quarter Kantonian, and one quarter Unovan. I assume that is what you _actually_ wanted to know, when you asked that question."

On the other side of the room, Kahili's clenched jaw visibly and audibly twitched; the sound of grinding teeth was so loud that the mustachioed anchor glanced over in alarm. Caroline's hand had come up to cover her mouth, but she looked more like she was trying not to laugh than anything else.

"Er, I," stammered the balding anchor.

"Oh, it's _fine_ , don't worry about it," said Moon, offering him a large and very fake smile. "I do get that question _quite_ often, after all. It does happen, though it happened a lot more often in Kanto. I moved here last June, right after I graduated from high school— just in time to start the island challenge."

"Where in Kanto did you live?" asked the female anchor, clearly trying to change the subject. Moon took mercy on her and went with it.

"Pallet Town. I went to high school in Viridian City."

"Oh, like Champion Red and Gym Leader Blue?"

"Yes, exactly like them." Moon decided against mentioning that she knew them; she wanted the balding anchor to be uncomfortable for a little longer, and the studio audience was still gawking over her pointed remark— but really, someone who worked in the media and interviewed people for a living ought to have known better than to ask something quite that rude.

After that the interview wound down, and Moon smiled and waved good-bye to the camera as it panned away from her and the studio audience. It took a few moments longer than she would have liked, but then the producer yelled, "And... cut to commercials!"

Kahili was walking over, expression mutinous; and Caroline followed, apprehensive. Moon recalled Puck, Ariel, and Hero and went to meet them halfway.

"What was that?" demanded Kahili, in a tone slightly louder than a whisper. "You've been the Champion for not even a day, and you're already being rude to reporters! You can't do that!"

"Yes, I _can_ ," said Moon firmly. "On subjects like that, I can and I will. I actually bothered answering the question this time because I don't really feel like answering it again. But I am so sick and fucking _tired_ of answering that fucking question. From Kantonians it's a lot more pointed. It's usually something more like, _why are you so dark-skinned and ugly?_ You get all skin colors here, so I sort of thought nobody was going to fucking ask about that kind of thing, but I guess I was wrong."

"It was still rude! You didn't have to answer him like that!"

There were people staring by now— producers mostly, but a few of the studio audience had paused, peering over to feed on the drama. Moon inhaled heavily, then let out a slow, measured breath. "No, I didn't have to," she agreed. "Excuse me."

She strode past Kahili and Caroline, and made her way back to the greenroom where she'd been made up for television, and sat down in front of the vanity to stare at her reflection in the mirror.

She'd sort of thought she was numb to that type of question, at this point. Moon hadn't been lying; she'd heard it often in Kanto. Teachers and neighbors and other people she had to deal with regularly tended to phrase it more politely. She couldn't reasonably take offense at the question, _where were you born?_ That was something many people asked, regardless of the skin colors involved. But there was always another question in their eyes, one that wanted to know— _why aren't you pale like the rest of us?_ or really, _why do you live here, when you aren't pale like the rest of us?_ It was an assumption that stemmed from not believing that anyone who didn't look like them didn't belong; and as someone who hadn't belonged anywhere else, it _hurt_. She was used to that hurt. But her classmates, and sometimes complete strangers, were a lot ruder about it. _How long have you lived here in Kanto?_ was one— again, not technically rude, but assuming that because she wasn't fair-skinned, she wasn't from Kanto. And with her classmates, it was sometimes said condescendingly, or with outright disdain. In Kanto, she had always been ugly and dark— a foreigner. _A barbarian_ , she had heard Nana say once, though Nana had been talking about her mother, and she hadn't even meant it rudely; to her, it was just a statement of fact. The stupid thing was, Nana actually _liked_ her mother. She just... didn't seem to understand that sometimes, the things that came out of her mouth were incredibly racist and frequently hurtful.

Rotom beeped quietly, and Moon frowned down at it because she had asked Rotom to stay on silent when she was in the interview; but what popped up on the screen was a text from Gladion, over Skypther which was free to use— if it had the unfortunate drawback of being unable to change usernames to reflect anything other than the initials of one's name.

**Conversation: Moon Hawkins, Gladion Mohn**

**GM** : Your brothers are weird.

Moon grinned. "Ah, now he sees it," she murmured, pulling up Rotom's camera app and posing.

**MH** : Picture Attachment: [*Muah*.png]

 **GM** : ABORT ABORT BLUE SAW THAT ONE

 **MH** : Omg tell him to stop looking at your phone!!!

 **GM** : They're letting me stay at their apartment. I'm not going to be rude.

 **MH** : Tell him I said he can eat a bag of dicks then. You're just conveying the message lmao

 **GM** : I AM NOT GOING TO SAY THAT

 **MH** : You're using a lot of capslock and also a surprising lack of punctuation. Should I be concerned

 **GM** : YOU'RE VERY CUTE AND I AM FLUSTERED. LEAVE ME ALONE.

A soft, simple ache spread, from left-central breastbone outward to her shoulders, down to her stomach, up to her eyes; warmth prickled, and it was like phantom lips brushed against hers. Moon brought one hand up to her mouth, closing her eyes against stinging wetness and trying to recall kisses from only three days ago.

She almost typed out _I miss you_ , but it seemed he'd just gotten to Kanto. She didn't want to say that when he'd only just left. It was _true_ , of course; but it would be sort of pathetic to admit it right away.

There was a knock at the greenroom door. Moon hastily pressed a tissue to her eyes, mentally thanking the production team for waterproof mascara, and called, "Come in."

It was Caroline, wearing a determined expression— followed by Kahili, who just looked grumpy. Moon sighed, looking down. "I'm sorry," she muttered, the fight draining from her body. "I'm really sick of dealing with that kind of question, but I guess I could have been nicer about it."

There was a long pause. Moon glanced up to see Caroline outright glaring at Kahili, who looked rather taken aback; but then the older woman sighed. "I owe you an apology."

Moon studied her for a few moments. "Well, don't hurt yourself," she said, only half joking; Kahili's expression looked as though someone were trying to pull her teeth.

"Be _serious_ for a moment, please," the woman snapped immediately, then sighed. "Sorry. Again. Miss Palmer explained a concept called, er— _microaggressions_. To me, and also to the anchors by virtue of raising her voice just loudly enough that they overheard it. I didn't understand what was happening."

Moon blinked at her, then at Caroline. The girl shrugged. "My stepmom is black. You pick shit up."

"And I suppose," said Kahili, with an air of someone conceding a great favor, "that it's better if you make it clear fairly early on what you will and won't tolerate from the media. I still wish you had found a more tactful way to do it, but I believe I understand why you reacted the way you did." She paused. "And I shouldn't have berated you in public. That was... unprofessional."

"Um, it's fine, apology accepted," said Moon immediately. Kahili looked so uncomfortable that she felt she had to put the woman out of her misery. "Um, is there anything else you needed?"

"Not immediately. I will brief you at the League regarding the press conference." Kahili consulted her phone. "It's just after seven-thirty. Please be at the League by eight forty-five to begin your workday. I believe you have three scheduled battles and you are likely to have some walk-ins, as well. Discussing your metagame in public will do that."

"Should I not have said anything?"

Kahili shook her head. "It's up to you. It's just a side effect of which you should be aware. I will see you at the League, then?"

"Yeah, see you in a bit."

The woman nodded. "Until then." She walked out of the greenroom.

"What am I paying you again?" Moon asked Caroline, once she was sure Kahili was out of earshot.

"Um— it works out to like, a hundred and fifteen thousand Poké a week."

"Make it a hundred and fifty thousand, because she like, hates me for some reason and you literally made her apologize. You're completely fucking magical. How did you do it?"

"She doesn't _hate_ you," said Caroline, rolling her eyes. "She's just been dealing with the press since she was like, thirteen, and she's a little old-fashioned in how she deals with them. Plus her fame is different from yours. She was famous for golf before Pokémon battles. And you're like... um, how do I say this. You said on set that your one Pokémon would wreck the studio if you let her out, right?"

"Right."

"Well, you kind of do that by like, existing as yourself. Not necessarily in a bad way! Like, I am a teenager who is now going to be making like, more than most adults do, once all the legal stuff and the banking stuff is sorted out. But you're like, a walking whirlwind. You come in and casually rearrange people's lives. So sometimes they're kind of— well, okay, it's just her, but Kahili's trying to deal with that."

"With... me rearranging her life? But I'm not."

"You are, a little. She told me she had no idea you hired me until yesterday, which was not very nice of you, by the way."

"Would it have made sense for me to tell her before I was technically the Champion?"

"No," allowed Caroline reluctantly. "But she probably was expecting to do all of my job, and now she doesn't have to so it leaves her with some free time, especially at the beginning when a lot of the League press is going to be about you because you're new and exciting as well as the most important person there. So she's kind of antsy, because she's not used to having that kind of free time."

Moon sighed. "If she really wants more shit to do, maybe I can bribe her into helping Olivia," she muttered. "Have her do some of Nanu's kahuna shit, so Olivia can focus on her own."

"She could be the next kahuna?" Caroline's eyes went round.

"Absolutely fucking _not_. Um— listen, this is more on the personal side of things and you can't tell anybody, but I guess part of me being the Champion is that now I'm like, low-key an official representative of the Alolan people to like... the legendary Pokémon of Alola, but also all legendaries. By which I mean Solgaleo and Lunala mostly, but if Arceus showed up here I'd probably have to be the person to talk to him. So on that end of things I'm like, a bridge between the Elite Four, who deal with strictly battles but are still important, and the kahunas, who deal with both human and Pokémon stuff. Anyway, the point is that I know who the next kahuna of Ula'ula Island is going to be, and that's private information so I can't tell you, but it's _definitely_ not Kahili."

Caroline stared at her, then slowly closed her eyes. "I thank all of those gods that I have to be at school in half an hour, because it means I don't have time to have questions about all of the things you just said."

"Oh, shit, are you going to be late?"

"Only a few minutes, and I've got a permission slip from my mom."

"I can write you like, a job shadowing type pass thing? Like, saying this is an academic internship related to your future studies, so you can get out of class whenever."

"We'll discuss it when we've finished setting up direct deposit," said Caroline firmly, though she looked pleased. "Anyway, I've got to go. See you at three."

"Will you be out of school by then?"

"I'm done by two-thirty and it only takes about half an hour to get from Malie City to League Town. I'll be there."

She left as well, and so did Moon. Remembering Kahili's annoyance about her lack of professional clothing, she went home first to try and find something that wasn't a tank top and leggings to wear to the conference. There wasn't much. Nana would have been delighted if she wore her kimonos, but they were needlessly formal for a press conference. And it might be a bit tacky to promote her Kantonian roots _immediately_ after calling a reporter out for being racist and, in the same breath, subtly implying that most Kantonians were also racist. They weren't, or at least they didn't intend to be; but most racism happened by accident in that people didn't realize they were doing it. She might get some flack for the statement anyway, if Kanto bothered to notice her in the first place.

In the end she settled on a skirt that had been part of her school uniform in Kanto— plain black, knee-length with pleats. Worn over leggings, it looked less like a school uniform and more like a deliberate fashion choice. A boldly floral blouse, bought the last time she'd gone shopping with her mother, completed the outfit; and she threw on a jacket for the cold of Mount Lanakila and took off on Charizard, headed out for her first day on the job.

* * * * *

Kahili eyed her when she walked in, at eight forty-seven exactly. "Not bad," she said finally, "but you're going to need to go shopping."

"Oh, god, I know," groaned Moon. "I can go over the weekend, I guess?"

Kahili pursed her lips. "I need to come with you," she said finally, "but I've been informed by multiple sources that my idea of fashion is generally rather boring, and you're going to need a variety of different types of clothing."

"Caroline could come."

Kahili nodded. "She has a better understanding of you than I do." She coughed. "A better understanding of your generation, I should say."

That was fair. "Should anyone else come?"

"You can invite anyone you like."

"My mom, probably. And my friend Lillie." Moon chewed on her lip. "Maybe my friends Molly and Rogelio, they know more about fashion than I do. If we go shopping at Aether, Amelia Wicke might have some suggestions, and she always looks nice and professional so I'd trust her."

"That's fine. We can arrange for it."

The day began, and then wore on. She had been expecting a bit more of... well, a _challenge,_ from the day's challengers; but none of them posed any true difficulty and she was able to defeat all three scheduled, plus four walk-ins, with ease.

She tried to be kind when she defeated them, though. Moon had always heard that criticism ought to be sandwiched between praises; so she tried to give each defeated challenger a compliment on something they did well, followed by a suggestion on how they could improve, and finally telling them that she enjoyed the battle— because she did enjoy the battles, even if they weren't particularly difficult. It seemed to work, because the challengers usually left with smiles, or at the very least a certain briskness to their steps that suggested pride. Moon hoped, if anything, that she could give each of them something to be proud of.

The press were gathering in the main lobby of the League, because it was simply too damn cold outside to hold a press conference out-of-doors even though the lighting would be better. The League film crew directed various camerapeople to their seats, with their assigned reporters. Moon spotted Lara LaRue and Josh whatever-his-name-was skulking in the very back row, looking displeased with their seating assignment and glaring daggers at Caroline, who eyed them with disdain and folded arms. On Moon's right hand sat Molayne, Kahili, and Acerola; on her left sat Hala, Olivia, Nanu, and Hapu. Both Kahili and Nanu looked as though they did not wish to be present, though Moon suspected this was for very different reasons. Olivia, as per usual, looked tired. Luckily, Molayne, Acerola, and Hala were loud and chipper, chatting before the conference started and drawing the attention of the press (and thereby drawing it away from the others) to themselves. Hapu occasionally interjected, with some dry witticism or impressively intellectual phrasing that seemed to bemuse the press. Moon noticed that Hapu's mouth curled up slightly every time she visibly confused a reporter, and decided that Hapu was going to be the role model she followed for public appearances from then on. Caroline leaned on the wall, looking around at all of the reporters with something like hero worship in her eyes; there were a few people specifically on whom her eyes lingered, and Moon would have bet any money in her pockets at the moment that they were the writers for the online celebrity news webzine that her publicist liked.

Finally, Kahili rose to her feet, and the hubbub died at once, though there were still bright flashes of light from the pictures being taken. "Good afternoon," she said calmly, into the microphone. "Welcome to the Alolan League Headquarters. I'm Kahili Hano, a member of the Elite Four, and I will be moderating this press conference. With me today are former trial captains Molayne Parker and Acerola Kaiulani, who are now part of the Elite Four; and Kahunas Hala Akiona, Olivia Wala'e, Ishmael Nanu, and Hapu Kahonua. Kahuna Olivia is also serving as a temporary member of the Elite Four, until we are able to find another candidate to fill the position. And of course, today we are very pleased to introduce to you Champion Moon Hawkins of the Alola League."

She gestured for Moon to stand. Moon awkwardly smoothed down her skirt as she stood, to a polite round of applause from the reporters.

"The League is now open for _appropriate_ questions." This was said with a distinctly fishy eye, cast over in the direction of Lara LaRue and her cameraman. "You have one hour."

Hands shot up over the entire room.

Kahili pondered them for a few moments, then said clearly, "Alolan National News."

"We'd like to ask Champion Moon if she would be willing to clarify the statement about her heritage she made to Brandon Colten on _Good Morning, Alola!—"_

Moon felt a tiny piece of her soul cringe, shrivel up, and wither away. It was going to be a long, long hour.

* * * * *

**Skypther Conversation: Moon Hawkins, Gladion Mohn**

**MH** : Lmao so I fucked up

 **GM** : ?

 **MH** : https://www.alolaleague.org/presscon/2_27

 **GM** : This video is an hour and a half long.

 **MH** : Ok fair

 **MH** : https://www.pokétube.com/********

 **GM** : Oh.

 **GM** : All right, so you told a room of reporters that if they were going to constantly ask personal questions that were none of their business, they were going to get personal answers they probably didn't want to know about?

 **MH** : Wait for it

 **GM** : Oh.

 **GM** : Well, if being the Champion doesn't work out, you definitely have a future in stand-up comedy. Red and Blue are both crying with laughter.

 **MH** : Oh my god youre no help at all lmao

 **GM** : I'm sorry.

 **MH** : I didn't mean it like in a mean way haha, I know it's funny

 **MH** : Both Kahili and Caroline yelled at me for like fifteen minutes straight, and Hala and Olivia had these expression on their faces that meant they were like, torn between being disappointed and amused

 **GM** : What about everyone else?

 **MH** : Molayne and Nanu thought it was hilarious, Hapu was kind of grossed out but seems to approve of fucking with the press on principle, and you saw Acerola was being a troll during the actual thing so she just ghosted out afterward so they couldnt yell at her

 **MH** : Tbh I wish I could do that

 **GM** : Puck is a Ghost-type. Perhaps he can learn to walk in the void?

 **MH** : I did ask Acerola about that but she said usually its only Pokémon with primary ghost-typing that can do that. Plus a few others who are really strong, like marshadow

 **GM** : ...Marshadow isn't a primary Ghost-type?

 **MH** : I literally said the same thing lmao I love our shared braincell

 **MH** : But no, hes actually fighting and ghost??? I can't picture it b/c he's a complete baby butternut bean and I want to boop his nose, but yea

 **GM** : Huh. You learn something new every day.

 **GM** : Picture Attachment: [IMG617.png]

 **MH** : OMG YOU PICKED BULBASAUR

 **MH** : SO CUTE AND TINY I WANNA SQUISH

 **MH** : WHAT DID YOU NAME THEM

 **GM** : Her name is Persephone. I've just been calling her Perse, though.

 **MH** : Like purse?

 **GM** : ...yes, like purse.

 **MH** : I love that its so cute

 **MH** : I love you and you are also so cute

 **MH** : Sorry for being clingy ive just been having A Day

 **GM** : Please do not ever apologize for telling me you love me.

 **GM** : Or having any kind of emotion.

 **GM** : I've been in therapy for that. You can't help how you feel about things.

 **GM** : Picture Attachments: [IMG618.png] [IMG619.png] [IMG620.png]

 **MH** : OMFG MY DAY HAS IMPROVED IMMEASURABLY

 **MH** : I HAVE A BOYFRIEND WHO SEES ME WANTING TO SQUISH HIS LITTLE BULBASAUR AND ASKS ONE OF MY PSEUDO OLDER BROTHERS TO HOLD THE CAMERA SO HE CAN POSE SQUISHING HER SOLELY FOR MY BENEFIT

 **MH** : LIFE IS GREAT AND I LOVE EVERYTHING BUT YOU MOST OF ALL

 **GM** : Except reporters.

 **MH** : LIFE IS GREAT AND I LOVE EVERYTHING EXCEPT REPORTERS BUT YOU MOST OF ALL

 **GM** : I'm glad I could help make your day better.

 **MH** : You do that by existing tho??!? this is just a bonus

**Skypther Conversation: Moon Hawkins, Gary Oak, Satoshi Red**

**GO** : lmao moon u broke ur boyfie

 **MH** : STFU

 **SR** : I actually hate agreeing with him about something as silly as this, but Gladion is currently lying on our couch and staring at the ceiling and muttering something about sunshine.

 **GO** : u forgot the most important part!!!!!

 **GO** : Picture Attachment: [IMG8627.png]

 **GO** : he's completely bright red!!!! aaaaa so cute

 **MH** : Honestly shut your whole fuck im disowning u

 **GO** : omg I BREATHED

* * * * *

**Champion Moon Hawkins** **√** @moonhawk

hey so i'm sorry for getting so graphic at the presscon... but if you're disgusted by it consider how i feel about literal YEARS of (1/2)

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low-key racism directed my way. thx. —M (2/2)

**1.9k likes** **3.5k reChats**

* * * * *

**Alolan Pokémon League** **√** @aloleague

We would like to offer a formal apology to anyone offended by Champion Moon's remarks at today's press conference. No offense was intended.

**2.4k likes 2.9k reChats**

* * * * *

**A WHOLE ASS MOON STAN** @mudgayming

listen as a little brown boy who's also had to deal with some pretty demeaning shit, even from other brown people, i just wanna say that (1/4)

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@moonhawk GETS it. even if it's not ur race, even if it's ur gender or sexuality or disability or smth like that. hearing things like (2/4)

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that just fucking grates. its the actual worst. so if ur getting all up in arms about how she could have said it nicer? i hope u (3/4)

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forget to put on sunscreen next time u go out to enjoy the beach so u can remember that sunburn feeling. (4/4)

**5.7k likes** **4.2k reChats**

ok damn this blew up

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im just a tiny brown gay boy who plays video games for a living, what r all u karens so pressed 4

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sorry did i say karens, dumb autocorrect. i meant "concerned citizens"

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anyway, here's my tortwich and pokétube channels, like n subscribe for me screaming at jumpscares and building dumb shit in digstuff

* * * * *

**Champion Moon: Trainer, Activist, and... Stomach-Turning Philosopher?**

In a highly memorable statement at the first Alolan League press conference, our new Champion made an incredible and highly memorable statement about racism, microaggressions, and unconscious bias.

"I got asked where I was from today," she said, in response to a question from the _Alolan National News_ regarding her (well-deserved, in this reporter's opinion) shut-down of news anchor Brandon Colten, of _Good Morning, Alola!_ fame.

"I've heard this question countless times," continued Hawkins. "It's incredible, how many people ask the same things, over and over and over again. They think they're being subtle about it, but what they really want to know is, _why_ _are you different from me?_ or _why are you here, instead of with people who_ _actually look like you?_ Most people aren't really thinking that when they ask the question, because it's like— it's an unconscious bias. You've always been raised with this sort of, us-versus-them kind of mentality, whether or not you recognize it. And the thing is, there isn't inherently anything _wrong_ with bias. It's just a culmination of how you were raised and the various influences in your life. But you have to learn to control your biases. To control your own thoughts, words, and actions. Because if you don't, you say shit you don't mean and you hurt people's feelings."

Hawkins went on to say, "I grew up in Kanto, and I'm brown. Most Kantonians are pretty fair-skinned, you know? And I don't think any of them thought that they were being rude. It's just like, a statement of fact to them. I have darker skin. The rude part was when they implied that because I'm not fair-skinned, I don't _belong_ in Kanto. That I must be from somewhere else, that I'm not one of them. Which is absolute bullf***ery. I was born in Viridian City Hospital and until last June, I lived in Pallet Town for my entire life. I was, still technically am, a Kantonian citizen, because I'm allowed to be a dual citizen until I turn twenty-one and it would be neat to be able to visit without needing a visa even though I fully plan on claiming Alolan citizenship when the time comes. In every way that legally mattered, I was a f****** Kantonian! But people in Kanto didn't see that. They looked at me and they saw, _brown_ , and they thought, _that_ _means she doesn't belong here_. It is a really, really s***** feeling when someone reminds you for the hundredth or thousandth or millionth time that they don't think you belong. And I thought when I came here that I wasn't going to have to deal with that anymore, because there are all kinds of people in Alola. Alolans, Kantonians, Unovans, Kalosians, Orreans, and so on. I came here and I thought, _this is a place that will love me_. _This is a place that will say, yes, you belong here_. So yeah, really nice to know I was wrong about that."

And then, in the most memorable statement of the entire press conference, Hawkins said simply this:

"I know it's not really what you asked, but it's important to me. Imagine you get sunburned. A light sunburn isn't much of a problem, right? This is Alola. People get sunburned all the time. You go outside for five minutes, the sun is right there, you get burned. Maybe your nose turns a little bit golden after a week, no problem. But if you go outside with no sunscreen and spend a whole day at the beach, you start feeling it by the time you leave. When you're in the water playing, it's hard to tell. But the second you leave the water and try to put on clothes, the irritation is there. It's a lot of little sunburns, all at once, becoming a really bad one. I have had just about enough of being sunburned, thank you very much. It is uncomfortable and painful and I hate it. So from now on, I'm going to make everyone who asks that kind of thing, or who wants to argue with me about it, feel how uncomfortable it is. It's like if you're sunburned and sitting in public, like on one of the ferries or just at the mall or whatever, and you start peeling off the burned skin and holding it out to people. Showing them. _Look_ _at this! See what it did? It hurt really bad, and it's kind of gross and I hate it as_ _much as you do! Except you didn't notice it until I pointed it out to you,_ _because you're not sunburned!_ So then you're just as uncomfortable as I am, and maybe you remember to put on your f****** sunscreen before you leave the house. The metaphor kind of dies there because as far as I know there isn't anything I can do to prevent other people from being f****** bigots, but maybe instead you remember, you know, _not to be a f****** bigot_. Because you want to look at my peeled, sunburnt skin just about as much as I want to show it to you."

The topic was changed shortly after, because Elite Four Kahili Hano was clearly embarrassed by the outburst, but Champion Moon made yet another controversial statement only a few minutes later.

"I'm here because I love Pokémon," she stated— a common sentiment of many Champions of other nations through the years, and an innocent beginning. "And I love battling, and I am really d*** good at it. But I like that Professor Kukui decided it was time to put the League together. Alola is a beautiful place, and I love it and consider it my home now. But I'm also here because I was asked to be, in a way. Alola has some issues— I can't get fully into them for legal reasons, but the kahunas and trial captains agree with me on this, they'll back me up. There wasn't really a— uniting human force, for lack of a better word, to try and fix those issues. The islands are separate. Beautiful, but separate. Part of my role as Champion is to address issues that affect the balance of the islands. If one island has a problem, it might be taken care of internally by a kahuna, but if that problem affects other islands, then the other kahunas have to get involved with it, on top of taking care of their own islands. That's too much work for one person." (This statement was made with a pointed stare at Kahuna Olivia, who is currently pulling double duty as both a Kahuna and a stand-in member of the Elite Four. Kahuna Olivia visibly rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she did so; her opinion on Moon's statement seems to indicate agreement.)

Champion Hawkins went on to say, "I'm not saying that I can do a better job of this just because I'm the Champion. But to be the Champion, you have to be a strong Trainer. You have to be able to— to command the complete loyalty of your teammates. There has to be absolute trust there. They're trusting that you won't let them get hurt by being careless or arrogant. And that care for Pokémon, and whatever it is that inspires my teammates to be loyal to me? That's something that is needed in order to fix the issues that Alola has. You might not like me here, because I'm a young girl from another country who can't seem to stop running her mouth, but I am going to do a d*** good job at it because I refuse to give anything less than my best to this job."

At this point, Elite Four member and former trial captain Acerola Kaiulani stood on her chair, holding out her arms. Anyone who has met Elite Four Kaiulani is well aware that she is a medium as well as a Ghost-type specialist Trainer; she is able to commune supernaturally with the dead, both human and Pokémon. She has also been known for occasional bursts of precognition, as well as the ability to travel in what scientists call "the void," as a form of teleportation. The combination would be unnerving in an adult, but Elite Four Kaiulani is only thirteen years old. To be acquainted so well with death and darkness at such a young age is a chilling thought, but Elite Four Kaiulani defies all such expectations with continued optimism and energy.

Once Elite Four Kaiulani was standing with her arms outstretched and all attention on her, she closed her eyes and opened them to reveal complete pitch-blackness. This happens when she communes with the dead— not an unusual sight, but an altogether unsettling one. The assorted members of the press, as well as a wide-eyed Champion and the rest of the kahunas and the Elite Four, waited on tenterhooks to hear what she had to say:

"You'll take what you get and be grateful, motherf*****s. She almost went to Kalos, and if she had we'd have been f***ed."

At this point, Elite Four Kaiulani's eyes returned to normal, and she put her arms down before saying simply, "That was a message from a friend."

It was an interesting press conference, that was for sure. This publication has speculated about Champion Hawkins for some time, even before she became the Champion. Many of our regular readers know her from Kahuna Hapu's ceremony video, where she read and commented on the press-submitted questions— making this not the first or second time she has condemned the press, but possibly the third, or even the fourth. Champion Hawkins was also spotted arriving at the Aether Paradise by med-evac helicopter in late December, though she since seems to have recovered from any injuries she had sustained at the time.

One thing is for sure: Champion Hawkins is not what any of us expected, but she may be exactly what we need. It's been a while since Alolans have been uncomfortable enough to think about things like racism and microaggressions. We at the Alola Announcer will await Champion Hawkins' actions with interest and enthusiastic support for her intelligence, wit, and honesty.

—Esther McCulloch, The Alola Announcer

* * * * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kahili: why the hell would you hire a teenage girl as your publicist  
> Caroline: *is punctual, organized, and polite*  
> Kahili: ...well, okay then
> 
> "The anchors were very nice, though Moon promptly forgot their names because it was stupidly early." —also, I didn't feel like making up names for them. ok, I made up a name for one of them but that's because it's important to call out casual racism when you see it  
> "She enunciated Puck clearly, as the production team had asked her to do." — because an improperly aspirated P can sound like an F, and it would not do for the Champion of Alola to introduce her ace teammate as Fuck.
> 
> I've come up w/ a way to talk about actual in-game mechanics without it being weird! I can just call it "metagame," because if you think about it, in-universe Pokémon battles are still a game. It's a competition of combat, which historically and culturally is definitely definable as a game. And the metagame is like— people having discussions outside of the actual event about how the event should be run. So like, sports commentators. People who ARE battlers. People who run blogs or YouTube channels about a particular sport or competition. People with tumblr blogs who freak out about X battler did Y, and it was such an unprecedented strategy but holy shit did it work. So, you know... fandom.
> 
> I am also aware that competitively speaking, Moon's teammates' movesets are pretty fuckin bad. this will change over time because 1) I want to write The Good Shit and 2) character growth
> 
> A lot of sea-creatures, especially bug-like ones, are low-key kind of translucent. So I'm not just making shit up, even though I am in fact just making shit up. I'm making shit up with Vaguely Scientific Principles
> 
> Moon: So I adopted a Wimpod, and also women during the time of Shakespeare were subject to cultural and socioeconomic disadvantages because men existed with penises, don't you think that's bullshit?  
> The News Anchors: I— _what—_
> 
> Moon: "I'm low-key a huge nerd"  
> also Moon: *starts discussing how Shakespeare's portrayal of a female villain broke the sociocultural literature norm of Women Only Being Evil With Vagina Devil Magic Because Eve Made One Fucking Mistake In The Bible*  
> also Moon: *makes a comprehensive "metagame" case for why she has a certain moveset on one of her teammates*  
> also Moon: *lists off most of Naganadel's offensive moveset from memory alone*  
> also Moon: *casually discusses the known biological phenomenon of poisonous animals developing bright colors to ward off predators, listing examples found in nature*  
> everyone else: THERE IS NOTHING LOW-KEY ABOUT THIS
> 
> Scribe: *spends the entire summer watching and thinking about BLM, racial injustice, internalized racism, and microaggressions*  
> Scribe: *writes this chapter*  
> Scribe: oh shit oh fuck I'm letting the real world leak into my fanfiction
> 
> lol remember how sometimes Gladion would text Moon in _Highlights?_ here's the other end of it
> 
> Kahili: moon you can't be rude to reporters  
> Caroline: um she absolutely can, that was a fucking microaggression  
> Kahili: what the fuck is a microaggression  
> Caroline: * _inhales_ * **BOI**
> 
> "Both Kahili and Nanu looked as though they did not wish to be present, though Moon suspected this was for very different reasons."  
> Kahili: omg I KNOW Moon's going to say something wild, I just know it  
> Nanu: ughhhhh this is going to be boring as fuck if Moon doesn't say something wild
> 
> some random reporter: hey so you weren't very subtle this morning in that interview when that guy asked you where you were from, you wanna talk about that some more?  
> Moon: oh you wanted to see not subtle? I'll fucking show you NOT SUBTLE  
> Kahili, climbing over the table: MOON HAWKINS YOU SHUT YOUR ENTIRE FUCK—  
> Molayne, Nanu, and Hapu, restraining Kahili: shhhh no, let it happen
> 
> "Well, if being the Champion doesn't work out, you definitely have a future in stand-up comedy." —sometimes I write something and I look at it for a second and go "oh my god, would he actually say that???" and then I think about it for a few moments, and I'm like, "okay, yeah, he would actually say that."
> 
> Moon: *fucks up with the press and vents to Gladion*  
> Gladion: hmmm... what will distract my girlfriend from feeling bad about herself...  
> Gladion: I've got it. she likes to squeal about shit. better give her something to squeal about.
> 
> any links I may type up in this story are fake and non-clickable
> 
> "That was a message from a friend." —in which Acerola implies that it was someone dead who said this, but it was actually Plumeria watching the livestream and getting so disgusted that she literally used her Gengar to complain directly to Acerola about it. and then Acerola was like, "lmao let me just... share that. with everyone."


End file.
